


Out of the Troll Cave

by silverneko9lives0



Series: The Prince, the Warrior, and the Thief [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe-but characters only know the original universe, Confusion, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel, Time switching, kid crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1400314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of Part One of "the Prince, the Warrior, and the Thief" series where the company finds themselves in Erebor pre-dragon. Our trio encounters their older selves, future loves, and gains a knowledge no one should know…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“This’ll never work,” Dwalin muttered.

Thorin glanced out the door into the hall. “It’ll work,” he vowed. “It’s clear. Let’s go.” They swung the door open and they tiptoed ahead. Thorin turned around and was annoyed to see only one of the adults-that-should-not-be-here was actually _trying_ to be sneaky: the one with the floppy hat.

His name was Beaver? Right?

Thorin scowled. “Why aren’t you being sneaky?” He hissed at them.

His One, Bilbo, laughed and Thorin grinned at him. His older self didn’t seem impressed. He didn’t know what would happen to him to make him so…scary like his Adad, but Thorin wasn’t about to let his older self muck this up! He might be able to convince his One to stay in this time with him.

He _hoped_ he could.

“Thorin, let’s just do things normally,” Dwalin insisted. “No one’s around, so all we have to do is walk quietly. We don’t have to be— _Nori_ ,” he grabbed Nori’s collar. “What are you doing?”

“Er…”

“Hand it over.”

Nori scowled and returned the money bag. Thorin and Nori exchanged looks, both wondering why Dwalin was such a do-gooder.

“Does this belong to anyone here?”

Dwalin’s older self furrowed his brow, reaching for his belt. He scowled and slapped Nori’s older self— _Ow,_ Thorin thought, rubbing his forehead. _My head hurts._ It was a rather understandable cause for headaches, in his defense—atop the head.

“What did I do? It was _him_ …who is me…Mahal this is going to be confusing…”

Old Dwalin ( _That’ll work_ , Thorin thought, smirking at his brilliance) took the bag back. “We’ll worry about mechanisms later. For now, I would like to find a couch, lie down and have a nap.”

Bilbo hummed. “Pity it’s not all of us.”

“I don’t think Ori screaming in our ears would do much good in any way,” Old Dori said. “So forgive me for not agreeing, Bilbo.”

“No, I’d rather not see Ori angry myself,” he agreed.

They continued on their way through the hall. Thorin found his way back to Bilbo’s side and took hold of his hand. It was warm and dry, but also soft without calluses. Not an artisan’s hands, nor a warrior’s. They were darker than his. His hands were stark white beside Bilbo’s golden skin.

“You’re skin is so dark…why?” Thorin asked, comparing his pale hand to Bilbo’s tanned and freckled one.

“I spend a lot of time in the sun, gardening,” Bilbo replied.

“You’re a farmer?”

Bilbo laughed. “I’m a scholar. Sort of like a scribe. And a landowner back in the Shire.”

“Thorin, why are you being so clingy?” Nori asked, pouting.

Thorin glared at his friend, tightening his hold on Bilbo’s hand and hiding his face in his jacket sleeve. Neither Dwalin nor Nori has had their calling yet. They don’t feel the _need_ to be near their Ones. They don’t feel the emptiness that is so difficult to describe. He knew he wasn’t acting like himself, but…

_I found him. He’s mine. Only mine._

“What’s wrong?” Bilbo asked.

“Nothing,” Thorin said, feeling a prick behind his eyes. He blinked, trying to stop the flow of tears which threatened to fall at a moment’s notice.

“Thorin, your door’s locked,” Nori said. “Why’s your door locked?”

“It shouldn’t be…” His eyes widened and he let go of Bilbo, yanking on the door bars. The door did not budge. He heard giggles inside and grit his teeth.

“We could just try my place,” Nori said. “Or Dwalin’s.”

“I vote Dwalin’s,” Thorin said. Dwalin shook his head.

“No. Nuh-uh. Adad’ll _kill_ me. I’m technically still in trouble for what happened _last_ month. Or have you forgotten?”

Thorin shook his head. How could he forget?

It’s not easy to forget that there were Dwarrows around who despised his grandfather so much that they’d go so far as to try to kill him and his siblings.

It wasn’t something Thorin would admit any time soon to his friends, but he still had nightmares about that day; he could sometimes still feel the touch of cold metal against his neck…

Nightmares which had him waking up in a sweat, sometimes screaming and clawing at his neck where the dagger had been poised.

Dwalin frowned. “Thorin?”

“I’m fine,” he whispered. Dwalin sighed and flicked his nose. Nori cleared his throat.

“ _Dis_ ,” he said, lowering his voice. “It’s Víli. Could you let us in, my princess?”

The door swung open and Dis stepped out, excitement on her face falling. “Where’s…did you…”

“Oh, that was cruel,” the red-headed Dwarf—not Old Nori—groaned.

Thorin pushed past her.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” she screamed, beating her fists against Thorin’s back.

“That’s what you get for locking me out of _my_ room,” Thorin snapped, jumping onto the bed and crossing his legs. “What are you doing here? Where’s Frerin?”

“If you must know,” Dis clambered up beside him. “I’m hiding _from_ Frerin. He was making fun of Víli.”

Old Thorin snorted. Why he got weird looks, Thorin couldn’t say, but he cleared his throat and sat down.

“So, Frerin made fun of Víli and…”

Dis twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I _may_ have told him he’ll never have his longing since you and I both got it so soon.”

“Dis, that was mean,” Dwalin said, arms crossed.

“But he was making fun of my One!”

“Yeah, but saying that makes me and him worry,” Nori said, jerking his thumb at Nori.

“ _Excuse me_ , but the Longing is usually two-way,” Dwalin snapped. “You really think I wouldn’t notice how clingy your _brother_ is?”

“You’re not allowed to court Ori for at least a hundred years,” Nori said. “I don’t wanna deal with _both_ of my brothers being all gross and lovey-dovey. _Which_ is partially why we’re in this situation.”

“Oh?” Beaver asked, joining the group. The others were looking around the room. Thorin caught Bilbo’s eyes and grinned at him. Bilbo waved shyly back then turned to Old Thorin again, frowning.

Thorin wondered what he did. Or will do. Had done?

 _Oh well_.

“Why, if I may ask, are we in this situation because of your _Nadadh_ , lads?”

Nori and Dwalin blushed and coughed.

“I’m actually curious about that too,” Thorin said. “Sure they were running around with their trousers down and their tunics gone—and I _never_ wanna see that again.”

Dwalin and Nori turned red, trying not to laugh.

“Stink bomb,” Nori said.

Thorin snorted and shook his head. Then his amusement was replaced with fury. “You pranked them without me?! I was _almost there_ , Nori!”

“I know, but we got bored and they were getting a bit…” he cleared his throat.

“We will leave it at that,” Dwalin said. “They’re irresponsible when near each other, that’s for sure. Three impressionable Dwarflings were downstairs and Dori had his door removed too.”

“I hope I don’t get like that when I get my longing,” Nori said. Thorin cleared his throat.

“Sorry, that might not be possible.”

“Why not?”

“You get, as you nicely put it Nori, clingy when you find your one.” Dis nodded her agreement.

“If Ori was here he’d back that statement,” Dis said. “He _is_ rather attached to Dwalin and Dwalin’s not gotten his longing yet either.”

“Interesting,” Beaver said. “Thorin, do you like Bilbo so far? Not disappointed he’s not a Dwarf?”

“Why would I care about that?” Thorin asked, frowning.

Beaver stood and bowed cheekily at Old Thorin, who scowled.

Old Dori and Old Balin looked like they had frozen stiff. Thorin guessed they heard them talking. He knew there was a word for what they felt, but he couldn’t remember it at the moment.

He knew it was an “M” word…

“Let’s just worry about Balin and Dori later,” Thorin suggested. “And worry about _them_.”

He waved his hand _majestically_ at the adults now occupying the room. His eyes found his One again who seemed to be whispering at Old Thorin. _Who_ had that look Adad used to get when Amad was alive and they were fighting but didn’t want Thorin or his siblings to know.

 _Why is Bilbo in a fight with Old Thorin?_ He pondered this question.

“Okay, I can do that,” Dwalin said. “Any ideas? Cuz I’m drawing a blank.”

“That’s because you’d have us tell our parents.”

“ _No_ ,” Dwalin snapped, locking Nori in a headlock. “I wouldn’t because I wouldn’t know where to _begin_ telling Adad about this mess! What would _you_ tell your _Amad_ if we decided to do that?”

“No clue.”

“ _Exactly_ , Genius.”

“Hey!” Nori said, struggling to get out of Dwalin’s headlock.

“I’ll get Bey to help us,” Thorin decided. “He can at least keep it secret.”

“And when the king finds out—”

Three knocks was all the warning they got. And only half a second—not _nearly_ enough—to hide a Hobbit, seven Dwarves, and a Wizard.

The door swung open and Adad took one step in before looking around, face paling and eyes flashing.

“Adad,” Thorin said, jumping up. “I can explain everything!”

“GUARDS!!!”

Thorin groaned, hiding his face in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

They had been taken to the dungeons for interrogation.

Even his One.

Thorin had spent the last few hours sending plea after plea to Thrain on Bilbo’s behalf. He knew it’d be foolish to try and get _all_ of them out, but _Bilbo_ shouldn’t be in the dungeons.

Thrain would not listen, so instead of getting Bilbo released, Thorin snuck down and found Bilbo in one of the prisons.

“…Elfish ears!”

“Must be a type of Elf, then, filthy thing!”

“Never knew there were small Elves with such _ugly_ feet. Is it covered in fur?”

“Aye, it is!”

Thorin stepped out of the shadows and the guards silenced. “Prince Thorin.”

“Where is the Prisoner? The _Little Elf_ you were talking about?”

The guards chuckled and one knelt. “He is well kept.”

Thorin balled his hands into fists. “He better be. Now take me to him.”

“Your highness, it is late. You should be in bed.”

“If you don’t take me to the prisoner right now I’ll tell my grandfather you disobeyed an order,” he threatened. The guards’ smiles dropped and the one who knelt stood.

“His down here, your highness,” He was lead to a cell on the floor below. Bilbo was huddled in a corner, shivering. “Is this enough to satisfy your curiosity your highness?”

“Open the cell,” Thorin demanded.

“Prince Thorin—”

“Open it!”

“I can’t, your father’s orders.” Thorin grit his teeth and turned to look inside, gripping the bars.

“Bilbo? Bilbo it’s me. It’s Thorin. Are you okay?”

Bilbo sat up rigidly. “I’m all right, Thorin.”

It wasn’t all right. Thorin could tell it wasn’t but what could he do?

“I’m sorry,” Thorin said, sniffing. “Adad—my father—he wouldn’t listen to me. I know I can’t get _everyone_ out, so I tried to you get you out at least, but…”

“Hey, hey, hey, shh…we’ll be all right, Lad. The other Thorin is working on it as we speak.”

Thorin swiped his nose with his sleeve. It wasn’t very princely, but he didn’t care. “Bilbo…”

“You’re a good lad, Thorin, when you want to be. I really wonder what happens to you that makes you the Thorin _I_ know.”

Thorin tightened his hold on the bars.

“I came into my longing about a decade ago,” he admitted. “Since then…since…I don’t know if Hobbits have Ones, but Dwarves do and we start to feel a sort of sense for them, a sense that makes us feel like a part of us is missing and empty. Sometimes it comes sooner for others than it should. Ideally, we wouldn’t get our longing until we’re adults, but sometimes it comes upon children. Dwarves aren’t adults until we’re seventy-five years of age.” Thorin sniffed. “I was fifteen. I’m twenty-four now.”

Bilbo didn’t answer.

“I know I’m still a kid,” Thorin continued, “But I _know_ it’s _you_ I’ve been waiting for. Or who I’m _still_ waiting for…it’s just, sometimes we get our longing and _never_ find our One I was scared that I’d…that I’d never find you.”

Bilbo sighed. “Thorin, as you said, you’re still a child. The other Thorin and I were, you may have noticed, _talking_ about this. As I said, you’re a nice lad when you try to be, but your older self…he’s not.”

Thorin bit his lip, eyes prickling. “You don’t love him.”

“What?”

“But he’s me, so you…don’t love me.” Bilbo stood and approached the bars and knelt to one knee. “Whatever I did, or whatever I’m going to do when I’m… _him_ …I’m sorry, Bilbo.”

“Thorin, I’m not mad at you, and I do like you if that’s what’s eating at you, Lad. Like I said, you’re a good boy when you try to be. You’re confession earlier brought up some things that your older self had not yet been able to tell me and we met under not exactly ideal circumstances: we’re on a quest together and it’s very likely we could die on this quest. If anything, I think he’s just as upset about our situation as you are right now. The other Thorin, like you, is not a bad person. He’s under a lot of pressure right now and I wish it was my right to tell you what happened, but it is not.”

Thorin wiped his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“And I don’t expect you to,” Bilbo said. “Now it’s late and the dungeons are cold, so you should go to bed before you catch something worse than the sniffles. I promise everyone will be okay. Is that enough for now, Thorin?”

Thorin nodded and stepped away from the cell, letting the confused guard lead him up the stairs to the ground floor again before returning to the palace and going to bed.

Only, he could not sleep.

#

Thorin snuck into the throne room and hide behind a pillar. He blinked his eyes, trying to making them less heavy.

The doors opened and two guards came in with Old Thorin between them. Thorin could see _how_ he mistook his older self for Thrain, but at the same time his beard was too short.

He wondered why he didn’t grow it out. He had hopes to grow it out long enough to tuck under his beard. Old Thorin was scowling, eyes flashing dangerously like how Thrain’s did when he was trying to seem intimidating.

Old Thorin did it better.

“State your name,” Thrain demanded, “Before the Counsel.”

“No. I made a request that it I speak only to the King and the Crown Prince.”

“I found you in my son’s room with two other children aside from him _and my daughter_.”

“None of my companions wish any harm on the children. We are not what you think we are, Thrain son of Thror. I will not answer any questions until this _counsel_ is removed. Same for the guards. I have been forced to surrender my weapons and my hands are locked behind my back. I may be strong, but I’m not _that_ strong.”

“You will state your name!”

“And who here will believe me? Who here will believe me when I tell them that when I was a lad of twenty-four my grandfather slapped me and branded me a thief despite that my life was in danger and he ignored those pleas? Who here knows that day? Save yourself, the King, your children, Tharkûn, Dwalin son of Fundin, and Nori and Ori sons of Lori? Who else was there that day? Was it not supposed to be secret? I have been here for a mere hours. How could I know that?”

Thorin swallowed, watching from behind the pillar, wondering the same thing.

“Leave us,” Thror demanded. Slowly the room emptied until it was only them. “I do not know where these accusations are coming from, but I’d _never_ hurt my grandchildren—”

Old Thorin burst out laughing, head thrown back in dark mirth. “That,” he said, “is _rich_ , Old Fool. In your madness you would dare deny the truth: you _did_ beat your grandchildren and accused the eldest of the three of thievery when he didn’t take even a _hundredth_ of what is in your vaults.”

“Thievery is still thievery.”

“He’s a _child_ and you would throw him to Orcs if it meant having to give up your gold.”

Thorin winced. He didn’t like the tone Old Thorin used. He’d _never_ get away talking to Thror like that. Thrain steadied Thror.

“What is your name?”

Old Thorin stood straighter, shifting his gaze to Thrain. “Thorin the Second, named Oakenshield, son of Thrain son of Thror of the Longbeard clan and direct descendant of Durin the Deathless, a dethroned and disgraced king, and wandering blacksmith. Dethroned by a Dragon yet to come; disgraced by the memory of Thror. Coming here has been unpleasant at best thus far.”

“Dragon?” Thrain repeated.

“When I neared the end of my twenty-fourth year, Smaug the Terrible arrived on the doorstep of the mountain. He lay Dale to ruin and stole the mountain from the Dwarves of Erebor.”

Thrain studied Thorin. “You are younger than you look, are you?”

“I am a hundred and ninety four at this time. When we arrived, I had a few weeks until my one hundredth and ninety-fifth name-day. I do not know when I and my company have come, but as there is mention of _Víli_ from little Dis and my younger self has found his true friends, I can only guess you have as fair a warning as you can hope for. If you want my advice, it is this: get rid of him,” he jerked his head toward Thror. “Any loyalty you owe him is betrayed and any honor he had is gone. Seeing him now, I can’t remember why I ever was loyal to him in the first place.”

“The Elfling with the weird feet—”

“Is a Hobbit.”

“Impossible,” Thror said. “Hobbits are legendary.”

“They _do_ exist. Just because you haven’t _seen_ one does not mean they do not. A Hobbit is in your dungeons right now and he is my _One_. I would _prefer it_ if he is released.”

“No,” Thrain said. “I do not know this Hobbit and I worry about my son’s attachment to him. He is too young to have a One!”

“He has the longing. You deny this?”

“I do not. Nothing pains me more than to watch my eldest son and only daughter go through that at such young ages, but the Hobbit is an adult!”

“And has no _interest_ in the boy beyond a friendship. He is no threat to your son. We aren’t even supposed to be here. _He_ isn’t supposed to be born for another century and a half. I swear to you the Hobbit is harmless. If the lad wasn’t sure of _this_ , wasn’t sure that he is his One, would he really plead for freedom on Bilbo’s behalf? I see in your eyes that you do not yet know if you believe me. Look at me again. _Tell me_ to my face that I speak falsely!”

Thorin winced, pressing against the pillar. His head hurt and his mind reeled.

One hundred and ninety four?

Smaug?

His One wouldn’t be born for another one hundred and fifty years?

He hated his grandfather?

He was a blacksmith? Not a king?

What of Dis? Does she marry Víli?

Do Dwalin and Nori ever come into their longing?

Were people going to die because of the dragon?

“I believe you,” he said, voice caught in his throat as he came out from behind the pillar. His older self looked horrified. “I believe him, Adad.”


	3. Chapter 3

_“I believe you,” he said, voice caught in his throat as he came out from behind the pillar. His older self looked horrified. “I believe him, Adad.”_

Thrain strode over and knelt, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thorin, you are young. You cannot always believe what strange folk say.”

“Adad, _please_. Maybe he…maybe _they_ came here to stop the dragon.”

“His suggestion is that we commit treason against your grandfather.”

“But you know it’s true, Adad! I love grandfather, but you said it yourself: he’s sick in the head. So maybe that means he’s not a good king anymore—”

“Do you really believe your own grandfather would toss you aside? Thorin you are our treasure.”

“But I told him time and time again that someone was trying to kill me! It wasn’t until Tharkûn came and saw it himself that anything was done and that was a month ago!”

“The lad is spooked, Thrain,” Thror said, “And should he not be at school?”

“He should.”

“But Adad!”

“Thorin, you are already late,” Thrain lectured. “We will discuss this when you return,” Thrain said, leading him to the door.

“Amad would’ve listened,” Thorin shouted, pulling out of his father’s grasp and running from the room.

He didn’t arrive at school until after the midday bell, slumping in his seat and frowning. Dwalin and Nori joined him.

“Everything okay?” Dwalin asked.

“What’d you find out?” Nori asked.

“A dragon’s gonna come,” Thorin said.

“Does the King know?” Dwalin asked.

Thorin laid his head on his desk. “Yes, but he’s not listening again. And he and Adad aren’t going to let them out.”

“Yeah, well,” Nori said, leaning back in his chair. “That’s why _we_ get them out ourselves.”

Dwalin glared at him. “You’re going to get us in trouble again.”

“Shut up, Dwalin. We just need to get the keys—my job—via distraction. The distraction being my baby brother and Thorin’s baby sister.”

“ _No_ ,” Thorin said, glaring at him. “Leave Dis out of it.”

“Fine, Ori’s good enough as it is. Big puppy eyes and quivering lip…and he wants to meet everyone anyway so it works.”

“When I’m king,” Thorin said, grinning at Nori. “You’ll be my shadow.”

“Cool. What about Dwalin.”

“Dwalin’s got reason. He’ll be my advisor.”

Dwalin shrugged. “I can do that. So when do we strike?” Thorin turned to Dwalin, eyes bugged. “What? Oh, so because I’m the _reasonable_ one, I’m _always_ supposed to be the do-gooder?”

Nori and Thorin glanced at each other then turned back to Dwalin. “Yes.”

#

The corridor was empty. Ori stepped toward the door leading to the dungeons, fisting his tunic in his hands. He glanced back at the trio and grinned at them before sitting on the ground and screamed. The door opened and the guards emerged, swords in hand.

“Steady, lads just a dwarfling,” one said. The trio snuck by them. Nori paused to grab the keys from the belt of one.

Ori kept wailing.

“What’s wrong, little one? Where’s your amad?”

“Must’ve gotten lost…”

“Course he’s lost!”

Their voices faded as they headed further into the dungeon. They paused at one cell which chuckled. “Told you,” he said, approaching the bars. Nori grinned.

“Hey, you’re me! Or the older me! Or…M’al, my head hurts.” Thorin snorted. “Told who?”

“Dori.”

“Yes, yes, you were right,” Dori sighed. Nori fit the key in the lock and opened it. The duo exited. “Balin and Dwalin are in the other direction.” Nori pointed to their left. Nori ran to get them out.

“About bloody time!”

“ _Dwalin_!”

“What? He’s heard worse by this age, I bet,” Old Dwalin said, joining them, running his hand over his bald head. “Where are the others?”

“In the lower levels,” Old Nori said, stretching. He smirked. “Do you remember these now?”

“Somewhat,” Old Dwalin said. “Not really, though, it’s like _new_ memories forming that were never _meant_ to be formed in the first place. What’s that sc…Ori.”

“What?!” Old Dori shouted.

“Keep it down, will you,” Old Nori snapped. “These walls echo.” He led them downstairs. “Bilbo? Bofur? Thorin?”

“I’m over here,” Bilbo said, waving his hand. “Are we getting out?”

“Yep,” Nori said, opening his door. Thorin rushed in, embracing Bilbo. “Clingy.”

“Just a bit, but then again, your One’s a shrew,” Old Nori told him with a heavy sigh.

“You didn’t _have_ to marry her,” Old Dwalin snarled.

“Yeah, I did,” Old Nori sighed again. “I hate her so much, but I love her. And _someone_ of the Line of Ri has to have some kids. We all agreed on that.”

“What’s she like?” Nori asked.

“Later, Kiddo,” Old Nori said. “Let’s focus on finding the others first. Little Thorin, you need to let Bilbo walk at least.”

“How about your ride my shoulders?” Bilbo suggested. Thorin nodded and let go of him enough to go be carried on his back. “Let’s get the others. Bofur’s starting to sing and it’s annoying everyone, Gloin more than most…”

“Who’s Bofur and Gloin?” Thorin asked.

“I heard that,” someone called. It sounded like Beaver. Nori went to him and he joined us. “Gloin’s down the hall, Lad. Thanks. Any idea where Thorin and Gandalf are?”

“Not here?”

“Not that we know of,” Beaver said, joining them. (Thorin liked “Beaver” more than “Bofur.”) “Shall we go get our grumpy leader?”

“Just me and little me,” Old Nori said. “The rest of you should get out of here before the guards show again. Dwalin, smash.”

“That is _never_ going to be funny, you blasted thief!” Old Dwalin snarled despite Thorin, Nori, and Dwalin’s sniggers.

“Whoever said I was talking to you?” Old Nori asked, sticking his tongue out at Old Dwalin. “See you in a few. C’mon kid.”

Nori bounded after him, keys in hand. Thorin clutched tighter to Bilbo as they ascended the stairs again. “What’s wrong, Thorin?”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do this legally.”

Bilbo chuckled. “You tried, that’s what counts.”

“Is it true that a dragon’s coming?” he asked. Bilbo glanced at him.

“Yes. Your older self hired me to steal from it.”

“What?!”

“Hush,” Bilbo whispered. “At this rate with all the shouting you your friends do, we’ll be caught. I swear! Dwarves must be the loudest race in all of Middle Earth!”

Thorin winced. “Sorry.” Bilbo lifted him up. “Why would I send you to steal from a dragon?”

Bilbo sighed. “I do not know. You’ll have to ask him.”

“He hates Grandfather.”

“I doubt that. He really looks up to his grandfather.”

“He said he shouldn’t be king anymore,” Thorin said. Gloin joined them, snapping at Beaver. They could hear Ori still wailing. “And he looked angry when he said it.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Thorin _always_ looks angry. That’s why we call him ‘grumpy.’”

Thorin wasn’t sure. There was something _about_ how he acted that day that didn’t seem Old Thorin’s usual self. He was _vibrating_ with anger. If Thorin knew what that really looked like, he’d say it was how his older self was like that morning.

“Everyone here?” Old Thorin called, joining them. “Good. Let’s go.”

“What about Gandalf?”

“He escaped.”

“Escaped?!”

“Without us?!”

“Not _now_!” Old Thorin snapped. “Nori, all yours.”

Old Nori smirked and strode into the hallway.

 _“Oi, the prisoner—oof!”_ Thorin winced at the sound of smacking. They stepped out into the hallway. Ori was sucking on a lollipop, drool covering his hands.

“I’ve forgotten how cute he used to be,” Old Nori said. Old Dori nodded.

“Why?” Nori asked. “He’s just a little brother.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” Old Dori said, patting his head. Nori sniffed.

“Can you teach me how to do…er…whatever it is you did?”

“Someday you’ll learn,” Old Nori promised. “But not right now. Time’s of the essence.” Old Dori scooped Ori into his arms and they ran, keeping to the shadows and dodging more guards. When they reached the city levels, Old Dori set Ori down and the adults left.

Thorin grabbed Bilbo’s hand. “You’ll be okay, right?”

“Of course. We’ll all be all right. Now you and your friends need to get home. Okay?” Thorin nodded and Bilbo pulled his hand out.Old Thorin turned to them.

 _Bring money_ , he signed. _And something to write with. Meet us here in three days._

Thorin replied back: _Okay._

They disappeared into the crowd and Dwalin pulled Thorin back toward the palace. “We got three days to take what would be _hours_ to do. What’s that about? Why wait so long?”

“No idea.”


	4. Chapter 4

The last think Kili remembers is being outside the troll cave.

It was still early in the morning and he was tired. He closed his eyes, stretched, and yawned loudly, knowing he’d probably get smacked atop his head by Fili, but he didn’t care. Golly! He was so _tired_.

Then he opened his eyes and he was staring up at a dark blue canopy. His traveling clothes and hunting gear was gone. His boots too. Kili blinked, staring at the canopy above him. His hands were over his head, laid on a fluffy pillow and the thick blanket over him kept him comfortable.

But this was wrong. Kili sat up and looked around. The room was stone. There was a smoky quartz desk and a crystal inkwell stationed beside a window. There was also a stone table. Both were covered in papers. His bow and quiver, he was glad to see, were on coat pegs beside the door. There was a wardrobe carved from stone as well.

Kili got up, feet touching the burgundy carpet by his bed and found a pair of slippers. He slid them on his feet and walked to the window—which opened into a balcony. He stepped outside, letting the cool air wrap around him.

“Oh, wonderful, you’re awake.” Kili turned around. A servant put breakfast on the table while Balin approached. “Best get back inside before you catch your death, your highness.”

“Balin?”

“Yes.”

“What’s going on?”

Balin stared at him and sighed. “It’s nearly six in the morning, Kili. I’m in no mood for your jokes at the moment.” He pulled out a schedule. “Once you’ve eaten and dressed for the day, you’re expected to join your mother and sister for—”

“Sister?” he said. “Balin, I don’t have a sister?”

Balin shot him an unamused glare and Kili silenced. _But I don’t_ have _a sister!_

“You will join your mother and sister for a walk among the guilds. After which, you will dine with the whole family for lunch and will greet the Elves of Mirkwood. Your fiancée will be here as well.” Balin winked at him.

_Fiancée?! First a sister, now a fiancée?!_

“We received news that the King and his consort will be back some time tonight, so the Men of Dale will be here as well for the welcome home feast.”

“Right…but why?”

“Kili, I think it’s a necessary event given they’ve been gone a _year_. Goodness knows, Ori and Cassa are eager to have their husbands back as well…” Balin muttered under his breath about troubling brothers and their trouble-seeking friends.

Kili only nodded dumbly and decided to eat breakfast. He’d figure things out _later_ when his stomach was full. But he _knew_ he was going to find Fili, make sure _he_ was normal. Which means everyone who was _outside_ the Troll Cave and everyone who went _inside_ is not.

Except…Bilbo was _out_ of the cave…sort of. He was at the mouth of the cave…was that close enough? Well he was clearly with Thorin and the others, if Balin is to be believed.

He finished eating, bathed quickly, dressed simply and ran out of his rooms, searching for Fili. He found him hiding behind a giant vase by a staircase and tapped his shoulder. Fili jumped, reaching for his sword.

“Peace, Nadad!” Kili said, hands raised. “It’s me. Is it you?”

“Yes. It’s me! Wait—last thing you remember: what is it?”

“Nearly getting eaten by trolls,” he offered simply. Fili visibly relaxed. “Where are we?”

“Erebor, probably.”

“How?”

“No idea.”

“Did Balin come…”

“Dori. Said I’d have lunch with Mum, Dad, _Frerin_ ,” Kili’s eyebrows raised. Fili nodded. “I know. And Kris. Who is Kris?”

“Um…Balin mentioned that we had a sister.”

“What? We don’t…wait…we _did_.” Fili said. “But she didn’t survive the birthing. Mom almost died with her. You were too little to remember.”

“Oh.” Kili said. “Okay. So we…what? Ended up in a world where Erebor never fell to Smaug?”

“Most likely.”

“But Balin was in the cave with Thorin.”

“Same as Dori.”

“So what happened?” Fili shrugged and Kili groaned. “We have to find Ori. He was still a kid when Erebor was supposed to fall.”

He might not remember. He was only fifteen: same as Mom.”

“Well, he was _outside_ with us. He probably remembers,” Kili said, yawning again. “Mahal! I’m still tired. I just wanna go back to sleep.”

“I second that motion, but not now. I’m supposed to meet with Frerin in the throne room for ‘complaints and petitions,’” he said. Fili scoffed. “As _if_ I’m going _now_! Let’s find Ori. Library?”

“He’ll be there eventually if he isn’t when we are,” Kili said.

“What are you two doing?” They turned to the Dwarrowdam, arms crossed over her chest and a frown set on her mouth. She was blonde, like Fili, and her eyes were the same shape as Kili’s. She had, as Kili did as well, the Durin trademark nose. “Honestly, you two, you’re both late—”

They bolted. “Fili! Kili! Where are you going?!”

They didn’t answer, skipping two steps at a time.

#

It took _ages_ to find the library.

But they found it and Ori. Ori was busy looking over each book with a bright fire in his eyes, until he looked up. “Hello, your highnesses,” he said nervously.

“It’s okay, Ori,” Fili said, “It’s us.”

“Oh thank Mahal!” he said, collapsing on the papers. “I thought it was just me with the way everyone else was acting! Oin’s fine, but they have him incarcerated at the moment because he keeps spouting ‘nonsense’ about dragons and trolls and so on so forth. And so is Bifur, but I think they’re working to try and calm him down if they can. Poor Bifur’s panicking right now I bet. I found Bombur. He’s fine, but we agreed to keep quiet until we know more.”

“We’ll see what we can do to help Oin and Bifur,” Fili promised.

Ori sighed and nodded. “See that you do. I’m trying to find out what happened right now.”

“Good to know.”

“We’ve a sister.”

“Well, a sister’s not the worst that could have happened,” he told them. “Here it is!” He pushed a book toward them. “To sum up: it tells you that during the end of Thror’s reign there were a band of thieves who broke into the treasury and redistributed it among the people. The leader was Baraz Zundush.” Ori smirked. “Baraz Zundush was Nori’s name when he was a thief back in our wandering days. This was _long_ before the two of you were born: the diaspora left a lot of us in the hands of those who’d take advantage of our troubles and they would exploit us. They even tried to get our mother Lori who was once an esteemed general in Thror’s army. Well, Nori got fed up with all of it and he and your uncle Thorin came up with a scam to return the money that the poor needed. Steal from the rich sort of thing. Thror would definitely have been a good target. Also, this redistribution, illegal though it was, would have _hopefully_ gotten rid of Smaug before he had a chance to come.”

“So it worked?”

“Almost. According to this, the dragon did come, but some unnamed archer managed to kill Smaug before he could enter the mountain. The dragon’s arrival convinced Thrain to force Thror to give up his right to rule and took the throne.” Ori leaned back. “Sadly, I cannot say any of his is in stone right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there if the half of the company I think is the past, then history will continue to rewrite itself. Right now, time is unbalanced. We think of it as linear, but it’s far more complicated. Every decision, even the tiniest, we make can do something as drastic as change the weather at this point. I don’t think our Nori, Dwalin, and Thorin know this. As it is, there is no way for us to tell them.”

“Then we have to get to the troll cave,” Kili said. “Maybe—”

“It might not be the troll cave this time,” Ori said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll worry about the books. You don’t lead anyone to think something’s wrong if you can.”

“We don’t know how we’re supposed to act! What if we’re stuffy?”

“I doubt that,” Ori said, smiling kindly. “No one’s given you funny looks so far, have they?” They shook their heads. “You should be fine then. I’ll find you if I need you.”

Fili and Kili thanked Ori and left the library.

“Now what?” Kili asked.

“I guess we evade work, but meet up for lunch?”

“Probably. Besides, I apparently have a fiancée. I’m kind of curious about her…him?”

“You’re engaged too!”

“Have you…”

“Not yet. Might be interesting. Hope their at least pleasant, if you get my drift,” Fili said, smirking. He winked at Kili who sighed.

Kili cared less about appearance and more about the way they acted or treated others. He never liked many of Fili’s old girlfriends. Then he got his longing around sixty and stopped all together. Kili had his longing for far longer than his brother.

“Maybe they will be,” he said. “But you know, Fi, there’s more important things than beauty.”

“That’s why you’re the romantic one, Kili,” Fili said, patting his brother’s shoulder. “Who knows, maybe you’re fiancée is ugly.”

“Hopefully not _too_ ugly. And so long as he or she is kind, I can overlook that.”

“ _FILI!!_ ”

They stopped and turned to another Dwarrow. For a moment Kili thought it was Thorin. But then he seized Fili’s ear and pulled him along. “Come on, you derelict brat,” he hissed. “And you!” He turned to Kili who tensed. “Get your ass to the guilds before I kick it there!”

“Yes Uncle!” Kili replied automatically, running off.

“Kili, where are you…the guilds are in the _other_ direction!” Kili turned around and, blushing, ran past Fili and—he guessed—Frerin.

This place, Kili decided, was going to be more confusing than clear before the end.


	5. Chapter 5

Kili avoided the guilds. It wasn’t hard to do when he _technically_ doesn't know where they were. But he did find the archery range from the balcony he had found himself on. So he decided to train rather than run around Erebor completely lost and like a chicken with his head cut off. He was in the middle of warming up when a shadow covered him. He blinked.

“Why am I not surprised that _this_ is where you were when Kris said you never came to the guilds?” the newcomer asked.

His eyes focused and he stared at the woman in front of him. He knew it wasn’t Mum because of her voice. She was taller, with fiery red hair pulled out of her face in small, Elven braids. One was of Dwarfish origin draped over her shoulder. It was slightly larger, four strands and held in place with a mithril hair clasp inlaid in emeralds and sapphire, smaller beads were threaded through her red locks and the point of her ears was slightly curved. She was dressed in the brown and green form fitting attire of the Wood Elves.

“What are you doing here when you should be helping your mother and sister, _melleth nîn_?”

Kili swallowed, mouth opening and closing like a fish. His heart pounded against his chest and his face felt warm. _It’s you_ , he thought. _I found you at last. At last!_ He sat up and stretched. “Well, work is boring, you know?”

“I do,” she said, lips curving into a smile, “But I’m afraid you’re still going to have to contend with it, _hûmelui._ ”

“I missed you,” he said. The words felt…in a way, they felt wrong, taking some effort to say. He should be telling her he had been waiting for her since he was a bairn. But he knew that the Kili of this realm _knew_ her already, so though it didn’t sound right on his tongue, it was the right thing to say to her.

“It’s only been a month, Kili,” she said.

“I know,” he lied, “but I still missed you.” She helped him onto his feet. Like any elf, she had at least a Dwarf of Ori’s size on him…if Ori was to stand on his shoulders. Kili didn’t find that he cared for that.

“Come on,” she said. “Lunch is served and I’d rather _not_ miss Sigrid chewing Fili out.” She smiled at Kili with a hint of wicked glee.

“Well, whatever he’s done next, I’m sure he deserves it,” Kili added. “Besides, he probably does it to rile her.” His Sanzeuh laughed. The sound sent shivers down his spine, resembling the sound of crystal wind chimes being blown in the breeze. “Who’d want to miss that?”

Kili’s hands twitched at his sides, eyes fixed on her hair, trying to get his other self to cough up a little information about her. He didn’t even know her name. He should know so much about her…

Then they came: memories that were not really his, but at the same time _were_ his. Of coming into his Longing at nineteen…

His real memory was suffering through it for weeks before telling his mother and uncle and being comforted through the physical feeling of incompleteness, being assured that he wasn’t the first child to come into it, that it had happened to his mother and his uncle and even to Ori. His uncle explained that the emptiness was a natural reaction to the longing and that he’d learn to live with it though the pain never went away. His mother told him the wholeness he would feel when he finally found his One…

These memories were similar yet different. He was still nineteen when his Longing came, and he was the first of his siblings to have it. Kris tried to make him feel better by sneaking him sweets. Fili would tease him relentlessly for it before Th—no, _Adad_ caught him. But they were less painful than the real memories because in the other Kili’s memories he found his One a year later while Elves were visiting the mountain. He knew he was a nuisance at first with how clingy he had been to her.

When she finally came, he and Fili had no school that day. They were visiting Uncle Thorin and Kili had climbed into his uncle’s lap, practicing how to braid hair during a council session. It was messy and uneven, but Thorin would just glare at the council when they laughed or tried to stop Kili.

Then the Elves came. Kili had never seen them before and was curiously staring at them. Thorin had told him not to be rude, but then his eyes fixed on _her_ and he _knew_. Kili jumped off Thorin’s lap and pushed through the crowd, hugging her leg and wept, startling everyone in the room.

For a few minutes, someone had thought something was wrong, but then Thorin figure out what had happened and explained a Dwarf’s longing: that, if everything went according to plan, a Dwarf would not have the Longing until he or she was an adult.

But some Dwarves, for whatever reason, would come into their Longing while children or teenagers, some as young as fifteen years of age—the equivalent of twelve or thirteen years for elves. He explained the feeling of emptiness Dwarves feel until the moment they find their One. He explained that Kili had gotten his Longing the previous year and that, he guessed, it went away when he set his eyes on her.

Her name was Tauriel. She was the Captain of Thranduil’s private guard. She was his friend while he grew up and when he came of age two years ago, they became lovers and he was finally old enough to court her. She knew him better than perhaps his own family. She had seen him at his worst and also at his best. She made him want to be better and she challenged him. She had taught him archery and Sindarin. He also befriended her other best friend, Prince Legolas, whom she had grown up with, and he became something of an older brother to all of Kili’s siblings…

Kili chuckled. _To think we actually get along okay with the Elves…_

“Something funny?” Tauriel asked.

“Not really. Just thinking that Fili probably never listens to Sigrid…”

Tauriel hummed. “He probably doesn’t. He has expressed he likes her voice better than mine.”

“He’s a fool, then. But then again, I would prefer it if he stuck with Sigrid. He’s not allowed to like your voice more than me.”

“Don’t be childish,” Tauriel said, slapping the back of his head. Kili chuckled, rubbing the back of his head and grinning at her. She leaned down and kissed him. “Silly fool.”

“Just for you,” he said. _Mahal’s stones, what was_ that _?! So cheesy!_ But she laughed, despite his growing blush. “Let’s just get to lunch before someone decides to mock me more.”

“Very well. Lady Kuma!” she said to a Dwarrowdam dressed in a red and silver cote hardie. Her blonde hair was piled on her head in several intricate braids naming her a warrior and a noble. One, Kili noted, was a braid of marriage into the royal family.

A new memory, a more recent one, surfaced: a wedding from ten years ago between Frerin and _this_ woman. His fake memories of her weren’t bad. That was a something, he guessed. Kili bowed his head. “ _Umad_ ,” he greeted. Kuma approached them.

“It’s about time you showed. You’re mother is frantic, Kili,” she said, hands on her hips and her mouth curved downward in a berating frown. She turned to Tauriel and clicked her tongue. “And _you_ should be in a dress.”

Tauriel chuckled. “I would be, Kuma, but I was helping Dis look for Kili. I promise I’ll wear a dress tonight when the King and Consort return.”

Kuma hummed. “Well, it’s an informal lunch anyway. But Dori has new fabrics in, so he can whip you up a new houppelande gown this afternoon.”

“Oh,” Tauriel said, trying to sound excited and falling just short. “That sounds wonderful Kuma. Thank you.” When Kuma turned around and lead them down the hall to the dining room, Tauriel sighed and gave Kili a long suffering pout.

 _Tauriel hates dresses_ , Kili’s mind supplied. _But Umad insists she wear them once in a while. Tauriel does wear them sometimes, but she always wears breeches and a sleeveless tunic under them and no Elf in her right mind wears a corset…I love this Elf!_

On entering the dining room, he could name nearly everyone present, save for a few Men. One, a Woman, was beside Fili. Fili’s gaze kept shifting from his plate to her and Kili could only guess that she was Sigrid—

The memories of the other Kili told him that she was the daughter of Bard, Lord of Dale. She was fifteen years old, which, by Men’s reckoning, is a marriageable age for women. Men lived to short of lives—nearly a third of a Dwarf’s—so they came of age sooner and married when they were still considered teenagers. Sigrid, however, was quite mature for her age and had Fili wrapped around her finger. Kili—the other Kili, that is—had long decided this to be a good thing for his brother.

The Fili of this world came into his longing at sixty as well, and did not find Sigrid until about three years ago. He had spent many conversations with her father, both in person and in writing, trying to convince Bard to allow Fili to court Sigrid…which wasn’t allowed until a year ago since Bard was a tad protective of both daughters. However, having two princes of Erebor marry women of two different races and kingdoms, Bard and Thorin agreed, solidified the alliances between Mirkwood, Dale, and Erebor more than they would be otherwise.

There were plans of two different summer weddings the following year. Kili, who had waited for his wedding longest would marry in June and Fili’s would be in August. Kuma and Dis were always very busy with the preparations for both.

Kili sat across from Fili and Tauriel took the seat beside him. Kuma kissed Frerin’s cheek. “Feeling all right, _Ghivashel_?” she asked him.

“Aye, _Nûlukhlukhudel_ ,” he said. “Just _eager_ for Thorin to get his arse home.”

Dis smirked, leaning back in her seat. “You’re just eager to sleep in again.”

“Thorin will miss it just as much as I will,” he snapped. “Next time, _you_ are ruling the kingdom when he and Bilbo go on holiday.”

Fili blinked and shifted his gaze to their family. He and Kili shared glances. _Bilbo?!_ Kili thought. _Okay, other me, I need you to explain some things to me so that Fili and I don’t look like idiots._

All he got was that seventeen years ago, Thorin left with Nori and Dwalin for the West. Supposedly, he had business in the Blue Mountains. When he returned, he had a being other Kili had never seen before on his arm and introduced him as his _husband_. It was one of the biggest scandals Erebor had seen since Kili’s parents found each other while still considered children. It took a bit of getting used to and many still do not appreciate Bilbo’s efforts though his ability to haggle and negotiate is on par with the best merchants and that he had saved Erebor from an economic crisis within his first year as Prince Consort of Erebor. Other than that, “Bilbo is a Hobbit, which is a creature similar to a Dwarf with an interest in dirt rather than rocks. And eats seven meals a day. Where they go, I have no idea.”

Kili had the feeling his other self didn’t know Bilbo very well for some reason, which made him sad. He liked Bilbo quite a bit and the revelation that he was his uncle in this world made him think about kicking Thorin in the backside.

After all, he must have _known_ Bilbo was his One when they met in Bag End a month and a half ago. And _still_ he was an arse to him. Yep. Kicking him in the backside in the backside if they ever returned to their own world sounded like a good plan. How his uncle could resist feeling whole…

Kili sighed and began to eat, not bothering to sign his plan to Fili for fear of being caught by their mother and uncle—

The doors opened and a man Kili didn’t recognize entered. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, sitting beside Dis. “It got ugly at the market.”

“I see that,” Dis said, examining his cheek. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, _men ursel_ ,” he said, taking Dis’ hand and kissing it. “It was an accident. A couple customers at a stand were fighting over a necklace they both wanted—one for his wife, the other for his daughter who just came of age. They stopped when I got caught in the crossfire and an elbow hit me.”

Kili turned to Fili, confused. _Who is he?_

Fili was shaking, as though he’d seen a ghost. The Dwarrow turned to them. “Lads, what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, Adad,” Fili said, giving him a smile. “You should get it looked at just to be sure.”

_Adad?! But Adad…he died when I was…_

_No he didn’t_ , the other Kili’s memories said. _Not in this life. Not in this world._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Sindarin~ 
> 
> Melleth nîn=my love
> 
> Hûmelui=sweetheart (hû=prefix meaning heart, melui=sweet)
> 
> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Nûlukhlukhudel=Moonlight of moonlights/brightest moon, Frerin’s wife’s nickname
> 
> Kumathâl=the Singer. I took out “thâl” to make it the name of Frerin’s wife.
> 
> Umad=Aunt (if “Udad” means “Uncle” then…)
> 
> Ghivashel=beloved
> 
> Men ursel=my fire of fires


	6. Chapter 6

Thorin paced his rooms. “Maybe we should go see them,” he said.

“We can’t,” Dwalin said, shifting so to sit a little more comfortably on Thorin’s bed with Ori on his lap. “They said three days, remember. It’s only been about one.”

“Why are you so eager anyway?”Nori asked. “It takes three days for a trail to be lost.”

“How do you know that?” Thorin asked.

“Balin told me.”

“Why is my brother giving you advice like _that_?” Dwalin asked, frowning. Nori shrugged. “He shouldn’t be giving you advice at all!”

The door opened and Dis popped her head in. “Is it just you four?”

“Yes,” Thorin said. Dis stepped in with Víli. Thorin glared at the older lad, who sat at the desk. He had a messy braid in his hair which he kept scratching at with Dis’ bead.

“Is that from my sister?” Thorin growled.

Víli shrugged, smirking. “I didn’t see any harm with her practicing her braiding.”

Nori jumped off and locked his arms under Thorin’s armpits. “Let it go, Thorin. Calm down. Just breathe.”

“What if it was Ori braiding Dwalin’s hair? Would _you_ sit still and let it happen?”

“Eh, I can live with Dwalin.”

“I really only need to watch out for Dori.” The silence passed slowly.

“True,” Nori said.

“Yeah, that’s scary in of itself.”

Víli yawned and Dis clambered onto his lap, handing him a stolen cookie she hid in a cloth napkin. “Thanks, Princess.”

“I brought enough,” she said, laying the cloth out. “One’s for Frerin though. When he gets here. He’s made at you, Thorin.”

“Why?”

“Because he wants to meet your One and you let Ori and me meet him first.”

“I didn’t meet him either, though, and I’m not freaking out much by it,” Víli said. He kissed Dis’ cheek and she giggled. Thorin grit his teeth and glared.

“You aren’t married yet, so keep your hands off my sister!” Dis picked up an apple and threw it at him. Thorin ducked and it hit Nori in the eye. They glared at her and she stuck her tongue at Thorin.

“Dis, behave yourself,” Víli said. “And you should too, Thorin.”

“Hey! Who said you could tell me what to do?”

“Erm…Mahal did. When he decided to make me your sister’s One. And since she’s your sister, that makes you my brother.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Dwalin said. Ori shook his head.

“I don’t think it does either.”

“Whatever,” Víli said, tightening his hold on Dis’ waist. “So, when _are_ we going to meet them?” he asked.

“Two days from now,” Dwalin said. Ori jumped off his lap and ran to the table, picking up two cookies and ran back to Dwalin, handing him one. “Thanks,” he took it and Ori clambered back up, kicking his legs and fisting the blankets, cookie in his mouth. He righted himself and sat beside Dwalin.

“Are we supposed to do anything before then?”

“Probably lay low. That’s what they’ll be doing.” Nori said.

“You should see ‘em!” Ori exclaimed. “Big Nori has funny hair and Big Dori’s hair’s all white! So’s Balin’s and Thorin’s going grey! And his Dwalin’s bald and got arms and—”

“Okay, okay, Ori, that’s enough,” Dwalin said.

“M’not going grey,” Thorin grumped.

“Yeah, you are,” Nori said, smirking. “But we love you anyway.”

“You’re the smallest when we’re older, so there.”

“I will satisfy with being taller than you for the time being. I’m still sneakier.”

Víli sighed, “Children. All of you.”

“You’re thirty, Víli, you can’t really talk,” Dis reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’m older than them, Princess.”

“No cutesy moments in my room!” Thorin shouted, drowning out the knocking at the door. It opened slowly and Thrain stepped in. Thorin stiffened and felt blood drain from his face. Thorin gulped, “Adad, why are you here?”

“Hi, Daddy!” Dis greeted.

Thrain beamed at Dis before turning to Thorin. “The Dwarves who were taken to the dungeons escaped,” he said. “So security is increasing.”

“What?!” Thorin cried. “But _Adad_!” Thrain narrowed his eyes at him and Thorin bit his lip, averting his gaze. _How are we going to meet with them in two days then? I need to see Bilbo again. Stupid Dad!_ “Okay, Sir.”

“It’s just for a little while,” Thrain promised. “Just until things die down or they are caught. I have more questions for them, after all.”

“Oh.”

“What kind of questions, Daddy?” Dis asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about, _Mizim_ ,” he said. His gaze shifted to Víli. “I do not believe we have met.” Thorin smirked at Víli, who looked a bit green. He swallowed and set Dis down.

“Víli son of Vír, your highness.”

“Vír? The Sun’s innkeeper?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“How do you know my son?”

“Back when we last went to Dale, he showed us around,” Thorin said.

“And he’s my One,” Dis announced. Víli cringed and Thorin visibly winced. Whatever would happen next, he was glad he was not in Víli’s shoes. Víli put Dis on the ground and stood.

“I should go,” he said. “It was nice to meet you, your highness. Bye Thorin, bye Dis.” He ran out the door. Thrain stared at Dis.

“What is this about that boy being your One, _Mizim_?”

“My longing went away.”

“You don’t _have_ your longing! You hadn’t come into it yet!”

“She did,” Thorin said. “Just a few months ago and when we went to Dale a few months ago, she got very attached to Víli…It’s annoying, but he hasn’t done anything wrong, Adad.”

“Why are you defending him?” Nori asked. “You hate Víli.”

“I do,” Thorin agreed. “But he’s still cool.”

“Yeah,” Dwalin agreed.

“Fair enough,” Nori said.

“Daddy?” Dis said.

Thorin looked at his father, who had taken the time to sit down. “Dad? Are you okay?”

Thrain pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are _all_ of you experiencing your longing?”

“No,” Dis said. “Frerin hasn’t gotten his yet.” Thorin lifted Dis into his arms. “Víli’s not a bad Dwarf, Daddy.”

“I’m sure he’s a swell lad,” Thrain said. Thorin didn’t point out to Dis that there was a vein pulsing by Thrain’s temple or how his hand curled around the hilt of his sword. “Swell lad” or not, Thorin hoped Víli had a good hiding place. He’ll need it. Thrain stood. “Anyway, that is all. Shouldn’t you boys be doing homework?”

“But homework’s boring,” Thorin whined.

“I know, but a smart lad does his homework.” Thorin huffed.

“Fine.”Thrain stood, ruffling Thorin’s hair and left. When the door closed, they glanced at each other.

“We need to save Víli,” Dwalin said.

“Save _Víli_?!” Nori exclaimed. “What about _us_?! Our older selves are on the run! We might not be able to get out of here when we’re supposed to meet them!”

“No, Dwalin’s right,” Thorin said. “Víli’s in danger from my father.”

“Why?” Dis said, pouting. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But Adad didn’t look happy finding out you found your One. If we don’t hurry. You might not _have_ a One. And it gives us something to do other than homework.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t _done_ yours yet,” Dwalin said.

“Shut up Dwalin,” Nori muttered. Ori glared at Nori and turned to Dwalin.

“I did my homework.”

“Ori you don’t have homework,” Nori reminded him.

“Yes I do! I cleaned my room and swept the floor—”

“Those are chores, Ori,” Nori said, he turned to Thorin. _How is he my brother?_ He mouthed. Thorin shrugged. It could be worse. He could have Frerin for a brother and _that_ was worse.

“It’s work and it’s done at home,” Ori snapped.

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Dwalin said. “But that’s not quite right either.”

“To the drawing board!” Thorin shouted. “We have to save Víli from Adad and then find a way out of the palace to meet with the others. Nori! You’re the sneaky one, what do you suggest?”

Nori grinned. “Well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mizim=jewel
> 
> Yes. It’s just a filler. I will try to have another chapter up soon that’s less of a filler…


	7. Chapter 7

Sneaking Víli out of Erebor would have been _easier_ to do if there were no guards around to catch them. They weren’t caught, but being careful was simply not something they were prone to be—especially with Thorin and Dis around.

That Nori was caught again and dragged to his mother was a sad sight. Thorin wished him the best of luck. But that was as far as his involvement with the guards went. Dwalin thought he was cruel for it.

“I don’t see _you_ going after them,” he snapped.

Dwalin shifted his gaze to the floor. “W-well…Lori’s not as bad as my father, you know. But I’d still not want to get on her bad side.”

“And that is why we leave Nori to hang,” Thorin said, patting his friend’s shoulder.

“Can we go?” Víli asked, glancing around. “I’d rather _not_ be caught by your Adad, Thorin.”

Dis hugged him, mumbling assurances that Adad wasn’t that bad. Thorin agreed. Compared to Dwalin’s father and his rigorous control over both Balin _and_ Dwalin, Thrain was a strong candidate for father of the year.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Víli lifted Dis into his arms and Dwalin pulled Ori along to the gates. They grinned at the guards on duty. Víli set Dis down and ran out of the gates.

“See you at the Sun later,” he called.

Dis waved back at Víli before demanding a piggy back ride from Thorin, who knelt to let her climb on his back.

“We should go find Nori,” Dwalin said, lifting Ori up onto his hip. Thorin glanced at them. _We should take Ori home_ was left unsaid but heavily implied.

“Yeah, we should,” Thorin agreed, walking beside Dwalin. “You think we’ll run into them?” he asked, biting his lip. Dwalin rolled his eyes.

“You’re just interested in seeing Bilbo again.”

“Fine,” Thorin huffed. “I am.”

“I don’t blame you for that, you know. I can’t fathom what it even feels like. All I get it that it feels empty and when you find your other half you feel complete. That’s all I know.”

“That’s pretty accurate, but knowing it and _knowing_ it are two different things,” Thorin said. “I know I’m still a kid right now and I know I actually have to wait a lot longer than I thought, but at least I know he exists. Or will exist.”

“I don’t know when I’ll come into my longing, but Ori’s convinced it’s me. Does it…really work that way?” Dwalin stared at him, as though wondering if Thorin would say otherwise.

“Yes,” he said. “For me, Dis, Víli, and Ori, it was on sight. I think it might be the same for your brother and Nori’s. They’re hardly ever apart and we know they’re almost always glued to each other’s hips. Did you know your brother had his longing?”

“He got it a couple years ago before we moved. Amad,” Dwalin swallowed, his eyes downcast.

He rarely spoke of his mother, who had died before they moved and Thorin didn’t press. He lost his mother to death as well. He knew the pain it brought.

“Amad explained it to him. She comforted him when it was too strong, and, honestly, it was scary seeing him cry. I mean it’s _Balin_ for crying out loud!”

Thorin hummed, shifting Dis up his back so she wasn’t strangling him so much. “Why do you think Bilbo is mad at my older self?”

Dwalin sighed and Ori yawned, laying his head on Dwalin’s shoulder. “Not a clue.”

#

The last few days had been rough on everyone.

They still didn’t know what happened to the blasted wizard. Nori managed to get injured and was currently resting in one of the rooms upstairs. Balin and Dori were discussing their next move in hushed whispers, an occasional argument barking out.

Then there was the Hobbit.

Thorin glanced at where Bilbo was hidden, a cloak pulled over his head to keep from being noticed. The dratted boy _had_ to go and tell Bilbo that he was his One.

It was true: Bilbo was his One. Keeping his distance had been torturous yet necessary. He was not fibbing when he told Gandalf he could not guarantee Bilbo’s safety nor be held responsible for his fate.

Dori approached him. “You are not _seriously_ considering _that_ , are you?”

“Considering what?”

“Having Nori become Baraz again. He’s _hurt_ , Thorin—”

“Nori will be fine and you know that. He’s not hurt as bad as he’s been before. He’ll be up again soon and we’ll put our plan into action.”

“Thorin, it’s too dangerous,” Balin hissed, overhearing the conversation. “Stealing from corrupt landlords and government officials is one thing. You’re suggesting we rob a gold-mad king. Thror will destroy the kingdom before he lets go of his treasure.”

“He’s already destroying it,” Thorin snarled. “I don’t see how giving the gold back to the poor would be any different.”

“We should focus on finding a way home,” Balin said. “You gave your warning to Thror and Thrain. What more is there to do?”

“I would like to stop the dragon from rendering my people homeless.”

“And how much will change if we _do_ manage to stop Smaug, hmm?”

Thorin glanced at Bilbo again. He was eating and talking to Bofur. His slender hands shook.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means my people will have a home where they can live without fear of disease, starvation, and bandits. I now have a chance to stop this, make it so my nephews can grow in safe environment without fear of being cast out or abused. I can save all the children who died in those years. I can—”

He cut himself off, turning to Bilbo again.

“You’re wondering if Bilbo will be your One still?”

“I am.”

Balin and Dori exchanged looks. Dori raised an eyebrow and Balin nodded, sitting down across from his king while Dori went to get Thorin something to actually eat.

“What you’re thinking of doing is…well, it’s not _separate_ from Bilbo, but who we are now will change and the same implies to Bilbo. We’ll be different.”

Thorin chuckled. “That makes sense,” he said. “But I doubt any of us will realize we’re different.”

“No. I suppose not,” Balin agreed. Dori returned with a plate and set it down in front of Thorin.

“Dori, I’m not hungry.”

“Bollocks,” Dori snapped, startling Thorin. Balin just sighed. “You’re too stubborn to eat properly. Don’t make me shove it down your throat.”

He walked away to fuss over Bilbo and Bofur. Thorin turned to Balin, who shrugged.

“Better you than Ori, I suppose. Stress of the journey, you know.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Thorin said, tearing into the bread. “He should just henpeck you rather than his brothers.”

Balin chuckled weakly. “Aye, he can be a bit…intimidating, I suppose. I’m used to though.” The door opened and Dwalin approached, removing the hood of his cloak. “Evenin’, Brother.”

Dwalin ignored him, sitting beside Thorin. “The search is dying down,” he said, swiping Thorin’s food.

Thorin glared at him, but made no move to take the food back.

“We should be able to move freely given another few hours so long as we keep clear of the palace. There’s word that the Crown Prince is hunting down some tavern-boy,” he added with a smirk.

“Víli?” Thorin asked.

“How many tavern-boys do we know who’d dare go to the palace?”

Thorin sighed. There was no love lost between him and his brother-in-law, but their dislike was mutual and tepid on Dis’ behalf. His fate was tragic, but that, perhaps, was another thing that would change if all went according to plan.

“Is Nori any better?”

“I would ask Dori,” Thorin said. “However it seems he is well and we’ve decided on a plan.”

“Which is?”

“To bring back Baraz.” Thorin leaned back to avoid having food chunks spat on him when Dwalin started coughing. Dwalin glared at him.

“You and Nori and your bloody hair-brained schemes!” Dwalin roared. “What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?”

Thorin glared at him. “Have you any better ideas?” he asked. “No? Then shut it.

“You’re not as young and being Baraz Zundush nearly got you and Nori killed more than once!”

“Keep it down,” Dori hissed.

“Have you any fucking sense of responsibility? You’ve nephews waiting for us to get back. You found your One and don’t make me start listing how many Dwarrows you’re in charge of!”

“Will any of that matter if we succeed?” Thorin asked calmly.

“You would rather we completely change? Not be who we are?”

Thorin stood, seizing his tunic.

“Look at me,” he hissed. “I can’t even talk to Bilbo, tell him who I am, how much he means to me because I am terrified of what will happen to him if I were to make him mine. The good of Erebor _must_ come first, and if losing myself is the price I pay to save my people, then so be it. The likelihood we’ll remember who we are now is…it’s just impossible, Dwalin. It might be better.”

“You don’t know that,” Dwalin hissed, “Thorin, who knows how much we’ve already changed just by _sitting_ here? Are you _sure_ you want to do this? Who you are now may not who you will be in a changed world.”

Thorin released him. “I’m fine with that. Oddly enough I am fine with that. I’ve been prepared to die for years, my friend. Why should now be any different?

Dwalin sighed. “You and Nori both…why is it I always need to save your sorry asses?”


	8. Chapter 8

“I’m going with you this time,” Frerin demanded, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at Thorin. Thorin looked at Nori, who shrugged.

“Better him than Dori,” he said, eating a grape. “Why are these always better than I think they are?”

Thorin ignored him. “We’re going into town, so if you’re going with us, you need to dress simply. Browns and blacks, okay?” Frerin nodded.

“We’ll have to change your braids too,” Dwalin said. “And the beads. Unless you and your siblings want to be recognized—”

“Dis and Ori aren’t coming,” Thorin said. “Dis is with Adad and Ori is…”

“With Amad,” Nori finished for him. “Their grade is having a fair. So long as we show up before the end, I think we’ll be fine. Dori should be there with Balin.”

“Poor Balin,” Dwalin muttered, a dark smile creeping up his face.

“What’d he do now?”

“Tried to dye my hair orange.”

Nori coughed, pounding his chest with a fist.

“You’d look funny with orange hair,” Frerin giggled. Thorin shook his head.

“He should’ve gone for blue.”

“Shut up,” Dwalin snarled, scowling. “Shrimp.”

“Hey!” Thorin snapped, jumping onto Dwalin’s back. “Take it back! I’m gonna be taller than both of you! Just wait!”

“Today is not that day, Shrimp!” Frerin maneuvered around the scuffle and left with a promise to return—and a vow that he would grow to be _much_ taller than Thorin.

#

They would never have found the time travelers if not for finding Bilbo. Even if no one was paying attention, it wasn’t hard to miss bare feet covered in fur at the top. They followed him to a pub and approached the group.

“Hello again,” Nori greeted, sliding into a seat. Thorin sat on his right and Dwalin on his left. Frerin sat on Thorin’s right, staring at the others. “Are the guards still after you?”

“Thankfully no,” Old Nori said. “We were going to send someone to get you lads tomorrow morning if you didn’t come looking yourselves.”

“Well, we’re here,” Dwalin said. “Thorin said a dragon’s gonna destroy Erebor.”

Old Thorin nodded. “In a few months from now,” he said. “We came up with a plan to prevent it, but it will require a great deal of stealth and—”

“Ale,” the loud redhead said. “Lots and lots of ale.”

“I was going to say balls of mithril, but yes,” Thorin said. The trio snickered. Old Dori massaged his forehead, muttering under his breath about sense of humor and wording.

“Why are mithril balls needed?” Frerin asked, nose scrunched up in confusion. Thorin blushed, shaking his head.

“I deny being related to him,” he declared, crossing his arms. “I swear, Frerin, _Dis_ would have gotten it.”

“No she wouldn’t have,” Old Thorin said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All right, so we need you lads to get us a copy of the keys to the treasury.”

Thorin looked at him, feeling cold. Frerin huddled close to him, whimpering.

“What’s wrong, Lads?” Balin asked.

“Thorin, how is it they’re reacting like that to going near the treasury?” Beaver asked, mouth turned into a frown.

“The last time they did, their grandfather accused them of thievery,” Old Dwalin said. “He slapped Thorin when all we were doing was some Yule shopping.”

“That was a month ago,” Dwalin added. “Thorin was attacked by an assassin and Tharkûn saved us from him, but Thror never listened…”

Old Thorin stood, walking around the table and kneeling before the little princes. “Lads, I promise your grandfather won’t know it was you. We don’t want you to give up your own keys, just a copy of it.”

“You’re going to rob grandfather?”

“It’s no more than he deserves,” Old Nori said. “Look around you, Lads. Your grandfather’s the real thief in these parts. We,” he waved his hands out, “are a group of kindly bandits. You know I am little Nori there, aye?” they nod. “I also go by some other names: Baraz Zundush is one of them.” He stood and bowed. “King of Thieves, at your service.”

“I’m the king of thieves?” Nori asked, eyes bugging.

“You’ve dragged the name of Ri through the mud, haven’t you?” Dwalin snarled. Old Nori glared at him.

“We steal from the rich,” Old Thorin clarified. “And give it to the poor. We’re less thieves and more…rebels. Trust me, some of the things we have done to get by after the dragon came, being thieves ended up becoming one of the more honorable professions. Next to smithing.”

“You’re idea of honor is skewed,” Old Dwalin snarled.

“Being a mercenary is better?” Old Nori questioned, arching a braided eyebrow.

“But if Grandfather finds out, he’ll be mad at us again,” Frerin whimpered. Thorin pulled him into his lap, biting his lip.

“But you won’t let that happen, right?” he asked, looking at Old Thorin.

“On my life,” he began, “Thror will never know of your involvement. In the small chance he does realize it, we will come to your aid and we _will_ put Thrain on Erebor’s throne.”

“Wait, what will happen to you guys if you succeed?” Dwalin asked. “Will things change?”

“Yes,” Old Dori said. “Everything will change. We will be different.”

Thorin looked at Bilbo. “What about—”

“We do not know, but we are certain that who we are meant to be with is a different path. Connected but not the same.”

“You’re sure?”

“No,” Old Balin said. “We can’t be certain of anything. But that’s the only theory we have right now. Things will change for us, but that’s not necessarily bad.”

Thorin swallowed, pushing Frerin back in to his seat and approaching Bilbo. He climbed into his lap and hugged him. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing will happen,” Bilbo said. “You needn’t worry about it, Thorin. All right?”

“But what if you’re never born because we changed the future?” Bilbo didn’t answer and Thorin laid his head on Bilbo’s shoulder. “I don’t want that to happen. I’d rather a dragon came—”

“There are far too many lives at stake for that kind of selfishness, Thorin son of Thrain,” Bilbo said. “You’ll just have to trust that I will be born. After all, my life isn’t tied to the Dragon’s until your older self hired me to steal from it. Stealing from your grandfather sounds much easier. Perhaps no less dangerous, but easier by far.”

“Thorin, if we do not stop the dragon, too you won’t just lose your home, thousands of people will die,” Beaver said. “You don’t want that to happen do you?”

Thorin looked at him, still clinging to Bilbo. He shook his head. Swallowing, he faced Old Thorin.

“I’ll make a copy of my key for you,” he said. “But you need to keep Bilbo safe. If my grandfather finds out, he’ll be furious and he’ll go after everything you care about.”

“I can’t guarantee that—”

“Then I won’t help.”

“Thorin, it’s not that simple,” Bilbo said. “We will do what we can to stay safe, but we cannot guarantee anything. Nor will it matter if everything works for the better.”

“You’re my One!” Thorin exclaimed. “I can’t let anything bad happen to you! I—”

“I promise I will be okay,” Bilbo said. “We will all be okay, but you need to trust us.” Thorin hid his face in Bilbo’s tunic. He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

“Is this really the only way?”

“It’s the best plan we have so far.”

Thorin sighed and looked up. “Fine. But Bilbo better live or I’ll…I’ll…I don’t know what I’ll do, but you won’t like it.”

His friends snorted and the adults looked amused, but Old Thorin nodded once. “I will do what I can.” Old Nori reached into his pocket and handed Thorin a piece of clay.

“Do you have the key with you?” He asked. Thorin nodded. “Press the flat edge of the key into that. We’ll take care of the rest.” Thorin obeyed, pushing the flat edge of his key into the clay and handed it back to Old Nori.

“Now what?”

“You pretend to not know any of this,” Old Dwalin said. “If anyone asks, you and your friends were exploring the city or skipping class.”

“That’s so unlike you Dwalin,” Old Nori teased.

 “Shut up.”

Thorin looked at Bilbo again. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“We all will be okay,” he assured him. “You’ll see.”

Thorin nodded and kissed Bilbo’s cheek. He jumped off his lap. “Nori, Frerin, we have to get to Dis’ and Ori’s thing.”

“Right. You coming Dwalin?”

“Do I have to? Balin might be there.”

“Why not? He’ll be there with Dori: meaning perfect pranking opportunity.”

“True,” he said, sliding off his seat. “Bye.”

“Prank—it was _you_?!” Old Balin snapped. Old Dwalin smirked, clearing his throat.

“Each and every time.” He and Old Nori bumped fists. “You’re both were easy targets.”

“You _locked_ us in a supply closet!” Old Dori screeched.

“We assumed you wanted privacy,” Old Nori said with a shrug. “How were we supposed to know Balin’s claustrophobic?”


	9. Chapter 9

Kili watched Fili closely, unsure what to think of his behavior around Víli as they spoke. Kris bumped into him. “What’s up with Fi?”

“Er…”

“You don’t _know_?” She asked. “You two are joined to the hip! Had you no wives-to-be, I’d have guessed you two were together.”

Kili wrinkled his nose in disgust. “No. Thanks. That’s just…ew.”

“Sorry. I forgot too many have assumed you two were together before.”

“They don’t know Tauriel, then,” Kili said. The corner of his lips twitched upward into a smile when he thought of the ginger Elf.

“Well, anyway, I had _guessed_ if anyone knew why he looks like he’s seen a ghost when Papa entered the room, you would.”

He couldn’t exactly tell Kris that Víli had died years ago when Kili was still a toddler too young to remember Víli. But Fili was old enough to remember and mourn—not that Kili didn’t. He was sure he did his own share of mourning, but was able to attach to Thorin quickly enough whereas Fili would go to Mum for comfort after Víli had passed.

Hopefully, Fili was developing a connection with his other self just as Kili was. It didn’t seem that the Them of This World minded their presence too much. They certainly didn’t seem to be too different. Not the same, either. But similar enough that they didn’t mind.

Though, Kili thought, if the roles were reversed, he could guess that he’d mind a bit more than he let on.

Kris pulled on his arm. “Come on. Frerin received a letter from Uncle Thorin. Our uncles will be back soon. Personally, I’d like to look my best when they come home. I know that Kuma has gotten her paws on Tauriel and Sigrid. Since Fili’s in no state to help me find a dress for tonight.

“And _why_ would I do that?” Kili asked, backing away. “Surely Amad would be able to help you.” He swayed at the sudden lightheadedness.

 _If you don’t go with her, I swear to Mahal I’ll kick your ass to Durin’s Day and back!_ The threat was loud and echoed in his head…and very real.

Kris rolled her eyes and looped her arm around Kili’s. “Because you always do,” she said. “Because—”

“Because I can’t let my little sister get ogled by perverts,” Kili said. _What? Really? This_ is _the daughter of Dis daughter of Thrain, right? You’re really this overprotective of your sister?_

 _But then again…if I_ did _have a little sister…_

Kili let Kris pull him into her room and she laid different gowns on her bed while Kili sat at the vanity.

“These are all the new ones Umad and Mama had made for me.” Beyond that each dress had its own color, sleeves that flowed from the elbow down, and had some sort of gold sewn into them, Kili couldn’t say he knew anything about the dresses.

He looked at his sister. Blue eyes, blond hair like Fili and their father…

“Not the red,” he said. She put the red and black gown away. He stared at the remaining three. “Would the green be too Elfish?” he asked, then winced. “I shouldn’t talk.”

“No. You shouldn’t,” Kris teased, putting the green dress back as well.

Kili stared at the two remaining gowns, swallowing. “The gold might be too much yellow. Go with the blue: accents your eyes.”

_Where the heck did that come from?_

She put the gold dress away and took the blue behind a screen giving Kili a moment to hold his head in his hands and groan.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I have a headache.”

“Ask Mama to make you that tea she’s always drinking then.”

“Maybe I will.” _Some things_ never _change._ Kili stood. “If that is all—” Fanfare resounded through the mountain, startling him.

“Help me lace this up, Ki,” Kris said. Kili obeyed, tightening the laces in the back of the gown until it was secure enough and Kris tied the back into a knot. Kris went to her vanity. Kili’s fingers automatically began braiding her hair.

_What am I? Her maid?_

Memory after memory flitted by.

Being a middle child, he was often trying to temper arguments and fights between Kris and Fili. The favored brother by both, he often found himself acting as a confidant between them and the peace maker. Where he could be a little brother and irk Fili, his relationship with Kris was much different.

He was her playmate more than Fili’s as his elder brother had to focus on his studies for the throne. He was often there teaching her different games and helping her dress properly for balls and feasts: first out of duty, then out of protectiveness, now out of fondness. It was his way of holding onto the friendship he and Kris still had until he would have to give it up and let her husband or wife—whoever her Sanzeuh ended up being—do this.

In the meantime, though, this was theirs alone and he wasn’t giving it up for anything.

Kili wished that she wasn’t stillborn in his own world—that he would have the chance to know his baby sister so cruelly taken from him before he got to know her. But even then, they probably wouldn’t have had the same relationship they do in this world.

Braids in place and threaded with pearl beads, Kris selected a gold and sapphire collar to wear before standing. She hugged him and kissed his cheek above the scraggly beard. “Thanks Nadad,” she said. “Now go get that tea and get ready for the feast. If you need me I’ll be greeting our uncles.”

“Right…See you in a bit.”

He leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. _We need to get out of this mess._

#

He found Fili and Kris in the throne room. The company was there, greeting Nori and Dwalin. A woman was tucked in Nori’s embrace, her brown hair braided into a bun. His hair was still in those ridiculous peaks, but there was a tamer glint in his eyes than what Kili knew from him. The woman, he guessed, was the infamous Cassa who was oft complained about on the road to Erebor when the opportunity for the married ones to discuss their families ever arose.

Unless their spouse was there with them: such was the case of Dwalin, Balin, Ori, and Dori. Then it was just annoying and gut churning to watch.

And then there was Dwalin, still heavily armored and as big as Kili knew him to be, greeting Ori as though they’d been parted for far too long. Whatever it was he was whispering in Ori’s ear was making the scribe blush crimson.

But none of these images were as startling as when he spied Thorin greeting Amad and Frerin. Smiling. Most disturbing. His uncle did not express emotions other than angry or annoyance. There was a spark in his eyes that Kili had never seen.

Beside him was a small, curly haired, fuzzy footed Hobbit. In Dwarven clothes. And a couple pieces of gold on his finger and wrists.

“It’s good to see them again, isn’t it?” Tauriel asked. She had been fitted into a forest green houppelande gown and her hair braided out of her face, courtship braid still draped over her shoulder.

“It is,” he said.

“You seem hesitant,” she said. “Why?”

Kili shrugged. “It’s been a strange day, I admit.”

“Strange how?”

He stared at her before kissing her hand. “Only in that if certain things had not happened, I suppose that many things would be different.”

“Many things indeed,” she agreed, squeezing his hand in her. “And you can be thankful they didn’t pass, _melleth nîn._ ” Kili nodded and they walked together to greet the others. But being pulled into a hug by his eldest Uncle was a bit much, leaving a sick _Mahal-kill-me-now-this-is-not-normal-nor-acceptable_ feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Good to see you, too, Thorin,” Kili said, patting his back.

“It is good to be home,” Thorin agreed turning to Tauriel.

“I hope the Shire was as peaceful as it always is,” she said. Thorin nodded.

“Nothing like it. Almost regret coming back.”

“Every time,” Bilbo added, poking him in the side with a teasing smile. “But you’d never get anywhere around there. Half the time I worry you’ll fall into a ditch in Buckland while trying to get _home_ from the market.”

“My sense of direction is not _that_ bad.”

“It is,” Fili, Kili, and Kris chorused, earning a glare from him which was met by three bright grins. _This_ was more like _his_ uncle. Even if the dark glint and scowl were not permanently etched onto his face.

“All right, all right,” Bilbo said, pushing Thorin away from the trio. “Those of us who just arrived should better go and get ready for tonight. And Kili.”

“What? Why do I need to change?!”

Several glares bore into him and he sighed. “Fine. I’ll go change.” The group filed out of the room and Dis grabbed Kili’s arm, hauling him toward his room. “Mum! I can change myself!”

“And most likely wear the ugliest shade of brown you can find. Over my dead body,” She said. “I swear if it were let you and Fili do everything on your own, you’d _never_ get anything done!”

“We’re not _that_ bad,” he protested. Dis chuckled and released his arm.

“Yet you both still find it in you to shirk your duties when you are full grown Dwarrows!” she exclaimed, a hint of mirth mixed with annoyance. They stopped at the room and Dis pushed him inside. “Now, I know Fili and Sigrid are matching…so let’s see if you’ve something green and worthy of your station…goodness, Kili, I _swear_ you’re as bad as Thorin used to be.”

“Before or after Bilbo?”

“Before. Bilbo would _never_ allow their apartment to be so cluttered!”

Kili sat at his desk, letting his mother sift through the wardrobe. His head throbbed. Kili leaned on the table, head propped by his hand. His hands shook and his body felt as though it’d been dunked in ice.  

The world shifted. In one moment he was in the alternate world where Erebor never fell.

The next, he was certain it was still Erebor, but the room was dark, layered in dust and broken furniture. The tapestries and blankets were moth bitten.

But then it was the bright, clean room again. Dis was kneeling in front of him, her hand in his hand. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he lied. His tongue felt thick and he was still cold. His bones ached as though they were being rattled. A bead of sweat trailed down from his temple.

_Give me back my body!_

“I’m really fine, Mum.”

“I’ll have a healer look at you before tonight. I won’t have you pushing yourself if you’re ill.”

“ _Mum._ ”

“Don’t argue with me Kili!” He winced, backing down. “I found you a doublet for tonight. There’re some brown trousers and boots to go with it, but you’ll only wear it if you are well enough. So odd, you don’t get sick like this! Go lie down, _Khahith_.”

_Give it back!_

_I don’t know how!_

“O-okay, Mum.” Dis kissed his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Khahith=Wolf that is young/Little wolf


	10. Chapter 10

I walk slowly up the stairs, staring at the key to the treasury. I feel like I’ve done something horrible. I know it’s for Erebor’s good, but I still feel awful.

_A crime with good intent is still a crime._

Our older selves may be right because this horrid feeling that tells me that I’ve done something terrible won’t go away.

“Thorin!” I gasp, turning around to see Adad. He doesn’t look happy. Does he know? _No_ , I tell myself, _he doesn’t know. He can’t know._ He stops in front of me, arms crossed on over his chest. **_He doesn’t know, so calm down Thorin!_**

“Yes, Adad?”

“There’s been a prison break earlier this week.”

“I know, Adad.”

“How?”

I chew my lip. “I went to visit Bilbo the day after and they were gone.” _Don’t look away, don’t look away._

Adad hummed. _Please believe me. It’s not true, but please, Adad, you have to believe me._ “The culprits have not been found, so there will be guards with you until they are.” I nod. I don’t really have much choice. Adad’s using his don’t-argue voice. Besides, a few guards are easy to sneak by if you know how. Which I do. “You’re quite fond of them, for whatever reason…you wouldn’t have had anything to do with their escape, would you, _men inùdoy_?”

I shake my head. “I’ve been busy the last few days with Dwalin and Nori.” Adad hummed again and uncrossed his arms, his hand rests on the back of my neck and I’m led to my room.

“Dis did very well on her project.”

“You’ll have to let her apprentice with the jeweler’s guild,” I say.

“I’m afraid I will have to if she doesn’t change her mind about smithing.”

“I like smithing,” I offer, grinning.

“And a brilliant smith you’ll be,” Adad agrees, ruffling my hair. I preen under the acknowledgement. “A fine king as well,” he adds. Now I’m less proud and more suspicious. “That…tavern boy.” Ah. Víli. “How well do you know him?”

“Not _very_ well. It’d be easier to know him if he lived in the mountain, but he’s a half-Dwarf who lives in Dale.” I doubt that bothers Adad much. There are hundreds of half-Dwarves around from mingling with the Men. “He’s cool, I guess.”

“Cool as in wild?”

“Yeah! He snuck us out and—well, okay, that led us to that assassin…but he didn’t know about that, so it’s not his fault…is this about him being Dis’ One? Cuz we both know that Dis wouldn’t have gotten so attached to him if he wasn’t. And he’s nice to her. But don’t worry, Adad. I’ll kill him if he hurts Dis.”

“You and Frerin both,” Adad said, grinning. “Those friends of yours are troublemakers.”

“They’re little brothers, so they help me understand Frerin a little better. Besides, the looks on Dori’s and Balin’s faces were priceless!”

Adad laughs and bids me goodnight. I enter my room and lean against the closed door, sighing. Hopefully Dwalin and Nori are holding up against their own parents. I don’t think they’ll say anything, but I’m the master-liar out of us. Dwalin’s too honest and Nori’s too shifty.

The awful feeling comes back.

I only hope it’s worth it.

#

Grandfather is angry.

I don’t know what about, but the servants are scared and Adad has the three of us eating separate from him and grandfather. I hate not knowing what’s going on, but I also don’t think I want to know if it makes my grandfather angry.

I rub my itchy cheek, remembering how it hurt when he slapped me a little more than a month ago. I’d been weary of him since. I hate saying it, but my grandfather scares me lately and seeing how Old Thorin acts around him, the anger in his eyes…

Sometimes I wonder how _he_ is _me._ He seems so angry all the time. Or sad. And I wish I knew what to do to prevent myself from becoming like that.

I grab my satchel and my siblings walk beside me as we head to school with a guard surrounding us. Dis has my hand in hers and she presses close to me when we hear shouting come from the council room. The doors burst open and grandfather strides out.

“You brats!” He screeched, lunging at us. He clutches a scrap of parchment in his hands. The guards hold him back. “I know it was you! I know it! Ingrates! Thieves! Usurpers!”

“ _Adad, atkât!_ ” Adad bellowed, “Dis, Lads, _go_ ,” he snapped at us, our guards, pushed us onward.

Dis is weeping, shaking beside me. Frerin is no better. I wish I could have the freedom they have and cry too. Not because Grandfather frightened me but because he’s right. I aided thieves. They plan to usurp him and have Adad take the crown.

I embrace my brother and sister with shaking hands. At school, it’s almost painful being separated from them, but we manage and Frerin keeps close to Frerin, Dis is nearly leaning against Ori, and I’ shivering between Dwalin and Nori.

They keep shifting their eyes to me, curious but cautious. Around lunch, I tell them about my grandfather’s outburst. Nori and Dwalin offer their homes to me and my siblings. I opt for Nori’s for familiarity and because Dwalin’s Adad kind of scares me. Nori and I send ravens quickly to my father and his mother, asking if this would be all right. When my siblings and I returned, servants have already packed bags for us, and Adad and Lori are waiting for us.

“The guards will stay with you,” Adad said. “It’s only for a couple days while your grandfather calms down.” We nod our heads and Adad pulls me aside. “Are you all right?”

I swallow and shake my head. “What is Grandfather sick with?”

Adad sighs, cupping my cheek and kissing my forehead. “You let me worry about that. You and your brother and sister are good children.”

“Adad, I want to know.”

“I know you do, but you don’t need to worry about it, Thorin. I will handle grandfather.”

“I’m twenty-four, Dad, I can take it.”

Dad smiles. “I know. You’re a brave and smart lad, but I want you to focus on school for now.” He beckons Frerin and Dis over and he embraces us before sending us off with Lori and the guards.

Balin and Dori are doing homework in the living room while Dwalin and Nori are in the kitchen doing ours. Lori directs me and Frerin to Nori’s room. The bed’s been pushed against the wall and there are five mats already lined up.

“Why are there more mats than there should be?

“No idea—” I tell him.

“ _Absolutely not_!” Lori shouted. Dori screams back and we take the two bare mats. Nori, Ori, Dis, and Dwalin join us.

“Mom’s mad at Dori,” Ori said.

“We noticed,” Frerin said. “Why?”

“He’s upset because you and Dwalin are staying over but Balin can’t,” Nori explained, sitting on one of the mats. “Ori’s staying in here with us so Dis can have her own room.”

“ But Balin and Dori would have Dori’s room if he stayed,” Ori added. I wrinkled my nose.

“I kind of wish Balin can stay,” Nori said. “More pranking opportunities.” He and Dwalin bump fists, mischievous grins distorting their faces. “Lot of guards around…”

“Because of our older selves,” I say. “Think they’re putting that plan into action?”

“Probably,” Dwalin said. “They’d have to work fast if a dragon’s coming.” That makes sense. A door is slammed and we all wince.

_Note to self: give Dori lots of space._

I hug my knees. “I miss Bilbo.”

“Well, I miss Víli, so you’ve no right to complain,” Dis snapped at me, hugging her stuffed bear. I don’t know if that counts…

The city guards are on alert the next morning and there is rumor that someone broke into the treasury and successfully stole from the king. I’m a little scared of what will happen next and of what will happen when we go home. I hate to say it, but my grandfather scares me.

I don’t like being afraid of my own family and I can’t fathom how Dwalin stands it!

#

I don’t know why he wants to contact me, but I wait in the corner of the pub, smoking a pipe. He approaches me wearing a cloak.

“So we meet again,” Thrain snarled, sitting across from me, “ _Thorin_.”

He doesn’t believe me. I didn’t expect him to. “You wanted to talk peacefully,” I tell him. “I am here. What do you want?”

“The truth,” he said. “Tell me your real name. Where you really come from and why you have stolen from us.” I lean back, exhaling smoke.

“This morning, King Thror attacked his grandchildren on their way to school,” I say. “He accused them of thievery and treachery.”

“Many saw that.”

“And yet you were afraid enough of your grandfather to send your children away from home for a small time. Three days, to be exact. You’ve doubted the king for nearly a year now, but do not dared to stop him.”

“There is nothing I can do.”

“You’re the crown prince. In light of his illness, you should be _regent_ at the least! The king is gold-mad. You know this. You’ve seen it. He’s losing control. His council is using his illness to line their pockets and his. A king is to be for his people. Without them, there is no king. There is more than one assassin lingering in the shadows. You suspect this, I know it, and you fear for your children’s lives. They struck once, what’s to stop them from attacking again? However, they won’t have that chance if a dragon comes, and trust me, you’d rather have the assassins.”

“You’ve no proof,” he hissed. There is fear in his good eye, I know it. I reach for a braid, hidden in my hair and show him the silver and peridot bead. The shadow of his brow disperses. “That…”

“This is my mother’s marriage bead, worn by my father after her death,” I tell him. “The very one you wear in your beard right now.” He reached for the same bead. “You gave it to me when I came of age because there was no better gift available in your eyes. You wear it to remember Fris by. I wear it to remember my parents and never forget their sacrifice.”

He took the bead out and held his hand out for mine. I gave it willingly letting him inspect them. His eye glistened and the lines of his face smoothed. His mouth turned downward and he handed my bead back. I put it back in my hair and brushed the braid aside.

“You are my son? My Thorin?” He studies me and laughs dryly. “I see it now. But _how_? You… _how_?!

I shake my head. “I wish I knew how we got here myself.”

“Dwalin and Nori…”

“They’re with me. As is Dori, Balin, my cousin Gloin, a Broadbeam of the name Bofur, My One and Hobbit: Bilbo…Gandalf as well, but he’s disappeared.”

Thrain covers his face with shaking hands, leaning on the table. “What happened to you, Thorin?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re…the way you speak to your grandfather, to _me_ …you were always a good child and I knew you’d grow to be a good dwarf, but you’re _a thief_!”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“ _How_ is it more complicated?!”

I press my lips together and wave for a barmaid, asking her to bring something stronger than ale. Thrain will need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Men inùdoy=my son


	11. Chapter 11

_Thrain covers his face with shaking hands, leaning on the table. “What happened to you, Thorin?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“You’re…the way you speak to your grandfather, to me…you were always a good child and I knew you’d grow to be a good dwarf, but you’re a thief!”_

_“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”_

_“How is it more complicated?!”_

_I press my lips together and wave for a barmaid, asking her to bring something stronger than ale. Thrain will need it._

But where to begin? Where do I start?

“The Diaspora changed me,” I say, “Which began the day the dragon came. That day is weeks away from now. It was windy that day and my friends and I had procured kites, so we went to fly them on the battlements. I wasn’t aware of anything wrong until my father, Lady Kori, and Lord Fundin ran behind us…”

_Thorin! Frerin! Get inside! Fundin call out the guard! Do it now!_

_Adad?_

_DO AS I SAY!!!_

_What is it?_

_Dragon. DRAGON!!!_

“The dragon obliterated the city of Dale. Survivors took shelter in the river. The Men tried to bring Smaug down, but failed. The guard was our last defense. While you led them against the beast, I ran to get Dis, get her out with the other children. After that, we saw Grandfather run for the treasury…”

_Grandfather! What are you doing! Get away from there! Frerin, Dis, Ori, stay with Nori!_

_Thorin!_

_Grandfather, come on—ah!!_

_Thorin! Adad!_

“You pulled us away from the treasury and the Arkenstone lost in the gold. We managed to get out and fled. You spied the Elves, watching, begged them for help, but they turned us away, left us to die, to wander, to fend for ourselves. We lost everything. We were the greatest of Dwarves, the mightiest clan of the seven kingdoms and we became nothing but paupers, vagabonds…we did what we could to survive. If we could get honest work we would take it, but often, we couldn’t.

“Mothers became whores for even a little coin or whatever they could get to feed and clothe their children. Fathers became thieves for the sake of feeding their families. The children and the old died quickly because of starvation. There were times Dis, Frerin, and I were so sick from hunger, you’d kill and steal for the sake of giving us food, medicine, clean water, blankets…whatever you could get.

“It wasn’t any better for Kori’s family. Fundin managed to become a sell-ax early on and his sons took up the trade as well. But Kori and her sons? They had a landlord who lusted after her, kept raising their rent in hopes she’d sleep with him. She was considering it when Nori began thieving from the rich. He got…good at it, we could say, and when he and I reunited, we began a type of scam with some other Dwarves tired of the treatment we were under, stealing from the rich to help the poor.

“We got bold, started giving them warnings that _Baraz Zundush_ would come.”

“You called your band of thieves the red bird?”

“No,” I said. “Baraz Zundush is Nori’s by-name. Mine is Oakenshield. That part of the tale I have not gotten to yet. Either way you look at it, our group worked. We’d steal from the rich, hand out the wealth to the poor, sometimes we’d steal necessities like blankets and clothes. Sometimes we’d have to threaten corrupt businessmen who would sell bad meat, moldy bread, rags…we were sick of it, outlawed, yes, but better off. This went by for a few years until we started to be hunted by a bounty hunter, who later joined our side.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because it was Dwalin,” I said, leaning forward, “All this was going on before I hit fifty, but some of the Dwarves who worked with us were much older. We lived a little better and it wasn’t until grandfather decided to reclaim Khazad-Dum that we stopped. Trust me: he didn’t go after that kingdom because he wanted to give us a new home. It was the mithril mines he was interested in. He was still a greedy, old Dwarf longing for wealth he did not deserve. He was no king the moment he went gold-mad and I have learned from seeing him again that loyalty does not mean tolerance. I would rather Dwalin and Nori stab me in the back than have them raise me up as king because if I do become gold-mad, I will be unfit to rule my people.

“Thror, for the sake of wealth, led his armies to a slaughterhouse on Azanulbizar. Orcs have taken over Moria, they live there now, have been for who knows how long, so reclaiming it became quite close to impossible. Thror dies in that battle at the hands of a giant albino Orc. Frerin is slaughtered in that battle as well, and no one knows what happened to you.”

Thrain slumped in his seat, blood draining from his face. “Frerin?” he said. “My boy?” I nod, what else can I do? He needs to know what will happen if the dragon comes so he can prevent it if I fail.

“After that, it was just me and Dis and my friends. We lived somewhat peacefully since then and I began smithing so to feed what was left of my family. Nori continued his thieving. Dwalin gave up hunting bounties and mercenary work to be a guard. Dis worked as a tavern-maid with Víli. And now, before we found ourselves here, we were heading to Erebor to take back the Arkenstone, call on the armies, and rid the mountain of Smaug. It’s been over a hundred and fifty years since and I have to send in _my One_ to steal the Arkenstone for me, so if I’m a little bit cross with my grandfather for being the greedy tyrant he is, I think I am fully justified.”

I do not think that Thrain was listening. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that Frerin dies, but I need him to grasp the severity of the situation, to understand the consequences of letting Thror remain in power.

“You found your One?”

Oh, so he was listening. “Bilbo. You may have noticed my younger self is quite attached to him and you cannot imagine the restraint I have to put myself through especially since I might be sending him to his death.”

“He’s not a Dwarf.”

“Hobbit.”

“Impossible! Halflings are myth.”

“They may be very shy and keep to themselves, but I promise you they are _not_ myth. He’d probably hit you with a frying pan for assuming that. And for calling him a Halfling.”

Thrain chuckled. “Speaking from experience?”

“Sadly.”

He sighed. “I do not know if your plan will work. The dragon may still come.”

“So will you do about it?”

“Wind lance. If one can be made fast enough, with black arrows, we may be able to save Erebor when the Dragon comes to our doors. You said weeks? I can have one and handful of arrows ready in days.”

I arch a brow at him and smirk. “And Thror?”

“Let _me_ worry about Thror. You just focus on giving our people what they need to survive.”

“I need to know you will do what is necessary.”

“And I will,” Thrain said. “I know how to deal with my father, Thorin. But just as I now trust you, I need you to trust me. Agreed?”

He held his hand out to me and I grip it in mine. Perhaps there is hope…

#

_Give me back my body!!_

Kili wished he could. He wished he knew how to separate the two of them because of the pain.

He bent over a basin, vomiting the soup he was told to eat. Fili, he heard, was not doing any better. Dwalin had been cross and on edge with how ill Ori had gotten as well. He still had no word of Bifur, Bombur, and Oin.

The flashes between one reality and the other were getting stronger and longer. His mother was calling them blackouts for now and Kili didn’t bother to correct her.

Kili was afraid. There wasn’t much he was afraid of, but _that_ was one of the few things he was scared of.

He didn’t hear his door knock and didn’t notice anyone come in until Thorin was setting a tray on the table. On it was a bowl of steaming water and a clean linen towel and a goblet. The smell of cider was a comforting scent and he was glad he didn’t retch.

“Uncle?”

Thorin turned to him. “ _Khahith_ ,” he said. “Feeling better?”

Kili shook his head. “Amad?”

“Is with Fili.”

“What about work?”

“You know I can’t handle Elves as tactfully as Bilbo does,” Thorin said, chuckling. “Better to let him handle negotiations with Thranduil.”

“You were kicked out.”

Thorin shrugged. “That’s one way to put it.”

Kili stared at his uncle as he took a cloth from the tray, dipping it in the water and wringing it out. He pressed the hot cloth against Kili’s forehead.

There were many times he’d been sick before. Thorin would close the forge and make him a cup of cider, press a hot cloth to his forehead. As he grew, the times he was sick lessened, but always there was a cup of cider and a hot cloth waiting for him.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by the onslaught of the other Kili’s memories showing the same thing.

Different world or not, this was still his uncle. Thorin stood and picked up the goblet.

Kili sat up. “Uncle, um, if I tell you a secret…”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Thorin said, handing the cup to him. Kili sighed, taking a sip or two for courage. He began at the morning before he became ill, studying Thorin’s face as it slowly fell from a soft smile to his more familiar frown. “I understand you wouldn’t believe me,” Kili said.

“I wouldn’t have…if it didn’t coincide with events of my past.” Thorin ran his hand through his hair, humming before telling a strange tale of his own from when he was a child before the Dragon came. “I will talk to the healer about something that will keep you well enough on our way to Orthanc.”

Kili stared at him. “What?”

“Gandalf might not be there, but we can at least get a hold _of_ a wizard in Orthanc.”

“We’re going?”

“Yes.”

“But you just got home!”

“This is more important,” Thorin said. “We’ll find Gandalf and separate you from…well, yourself, I suppose. Kili, there is one thing I require of you if you are to go with me.”

“Name it.”

“Don’t tell your mother.”


	12. Chapter 12

“What are those, Adad?” Dis asked, reaching to pick up a long, black shaft.

“Careful, Mizim,” Thrain said. She pulled her hand back and Thorin tightened his hold around her waist.

“Got her, Adad.”

“No you don’t!”

“You’re in my arms, aren’t you? I could just carry you under one and toss you off the battleme—”

“ _Thorin_.”

“I’m just teasing!” he said defensively, pouting. Dis took hold of his braid and yanked. “Ow! Dis!”

“That’s for threatening to throw me off the mountain, you blockhead.”

“I said I didn’t mean it!”

Thrain scowled at them and crossed his chest. Dis and Thorin stilled, looking up at him with wide eyes. You know: the kind of wide eyes children have when they know they’re in trouble, but not really yet don’t want to press it and hope that giving their parents big kitten eyes will sway them.

“Sorry, Adad,” they mumbled.

“So, really, what are those?” Thorin asked. “Lances?”

“Arrows,” Thrain said. “For a wind lance.”

Thorin blinked. “You think that the intruders are telling the truth?”

“I was convinced,” Thrain said. “And decided to come up with a plan B.”

“Awesome.”

“Adad, are you going to kill a dragon?” Dis asked.

Thrain smirked. “Maybe.”

Thorin bit his lip. How many more days will pass before the dragon arrives? The thefts were still happening, but the gold never seemed to dwindle and his grandfather was getting more and more agitated as the days went by…

“Adad,” Thorin said. “Lori got kites for us in Dale and it’s very windy today. Can we go fly them?”

He nodded, beckoning for another pair of hands. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll meet you up there to set this up.” He patted the lance before he and another Dwarf hefted it up. Dis and Thorin ran out of the forge and to the battlements.

Frerin was running toward them. “Where’ve you been?! Grandfather caught them!”

Thorin halted. “What?”

“Grandfather caught your bigger selves!” He turned around and ran back to the throne room with Dis and Thorin behind him.

They watched from behind the pillars. Old Thorin and the others were bound, but he still stood tall, fury and power radiating from him.

“Do you deny it?” Thror asked.

“What is there to deny?” Old Thorin rebuffed.

“Then where is it?”

“Where it’s needed most,” Beaver answered, “With the people. You know: the ones who will be loyal to you if you treat them well. They aren’t happy with you.”

“I care not for the grievances of peasants.”

“People,” Old Thorin snarled. “You think this is a joke? Assassins have been after your grandchildren in hopes of ending you. There is talk of rebellion in the streets. Your greed is costing you everything. Even if the dragon _doesn’t_ come, the line of Durin will _end_ if you continue on this path.”

“All I want is my gold back.” Thror said.

“You aren’t getting it back,” Bilbo said. “You’re not a king anymore, you’re a tyrant. You’re losing the loyalty of your people and if it continues, you’ll lose everything else. A king, a ruler, is nothing without his people.”

Thror sneered. “I would hold my tongue, _Halfling_ , if I were you. The affairs of Erebor do not concern you.”

“They do concern him,” Old Thorin snarled. “He is my One, and will one day be Consort of the King under the Mountain.”

“He is not a Dwarf,” an old noble said.

“Nor does it matter,” Old Dwalin said. “Since when has it _ever_ mattered?”

“Dwarves have married outside our race before,” Beaver added. “You’d have to be ridiculously xenophobic to dare question the King’s decision. Besides, who’d be mad enough to question the decision of the King? And, for the record, Thorin son of Thrain is our King. Not Thror.”

The ground shook beneath them. Thorin nearly fell over. He grabbed his siblings and held them tight.

“What was that?”

“Earthquake?”

“No,” Old Thorin said, looking around wildly. “It can’t be…it’s too early…he shouldn’t be here yet…”

“DRAGON!!!”

The doors swung open. “My lords!” Lori shouted. “We have to leave! A dragon descends on the mountain!”

“Told you!” Beaver shouted. “We bloody told you!”

“ _Bofur_ enough!” Old Thorin said. “Lady Lori, where is Thrain and Fundin? The children?”

“Fundin’s rallying the guard. Thrain is preparing a wind lance. We’ve not seen the children!”

“They weren’t on the battlements?!” He shouted. Old Nori’s chains dropped and he approached Lori.

“They were supposed to be flying kites today up there,” he said. “You’re _certain_ they aren’t there.”

“I would _know_ if children were there. They were not!”

Thorin cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey!” he yelled. Old Thorin looked up. “We’re up here!”

“You three need to get out of the mountain!” Old Thorin shouted. “Flee to the lake!”

Thorin grabbed his siblings hands and pulled them away from the loft. Lori met them at the bottom of the stairs. “Thorin, where are Nori and Dwalin?”

“I don’t know.”

Lori hissed, muttering under her breath. “All right…all right, _go_! Do not look back and no matter what you see or hear, _keep running_.”

A loud roar shook the earth again and Dis broke into tears. Thorin lifted her in his arms, and grabbed Frerin’s wrist.

“Now, Thorin, go!” Lori shrieked, brandishing her mace. Thorin pulled Frerin behind him, wishing he didn’t feel so helpless, wishing he didn’t feel so scared…

Wishing he could do something other than run.

#

Even covered in three blankets and set as close to the fire as possible, Kili was cold and his forehead shone with sweat. The black outs were growing in number and had slowed them significantly until Thorin bought a cart, forcing Kili to lie down.

He hated it. Kili always hated being useless to Thorin. As a child, Thorin tried to assure him that he had nothing to prove. But that never appeased him.

_It hurts._

_I know._

_Get out of my body!_

_I told you, I can’t._

“Kili,” Thorin said, pressing the lip of a waterskin to his mouth. Kili drank hungrily. “I should have gone on my own.”

“Too late to regret,” Kili said.

“What?”

“I said, ‘it’s too late to regret it.’”

Thorin smiled. “I suppose so. We’ll be at Isengard in the morning, _Khahith_.” Branches cracked and Thorin stood, unsheathing his blade.

“Lower your sword, King under the Mountain.” A grey clad man stepped out of the darkness. “And perhaps instead tell me why you are so far from your home with an ill prince?”

“You do not know?”

“Oh, I know,” Gandalf said, touching Kili’s forehead. “But it would be interesting to hear your side of events nonetheless.”

“I thought you went with them,” Kili said. “You’re _my_ Gandalf, aren’t you?”

“And his,” Gandalf said. “I managed to find a way back here so to find a way to open the gate and bring the others back. Though…that might not be necessary,” he turned to Thorin. “Is it?”

“Likely not. They disappeared after my grandfather was forced to abdicate the throne to my father. I don’t know what happened to them.”

Gandalf stood. “Thorin, do you know how to recognize plants?”

“I do.”

“Really?”

“My husband’s a Hobbit. I know a little bit about plant life.”

“We need kingsfoil. It’ll combat the fever.”

“You want me to get a weed?”

“Do you want your nephew to fade?”

Thorin sneered at him and walked away. Kili coughed a laugh. “That’s more like Uncle,” he said. Gandalf mixed a poultice, spreading the paste on Kili’s forehead before wetting a cloth and placing it over it. “What’s that?”

“That will keep you from blacking out so much. If we want it to last the way home, we’ll need to use it carefully.” Kili nodded, groaning. “How do you feel?”

“It hurts. Everything aches and the blackouts are getting worse. Am I dying?”

“No. More like your body is being ripped in half. A body is like a vessel, a container for your true self, your soul. Two souls cannot exist in the same body, even if they are the same soul, so they…”

“Fight?”

“Yes,” Gandalf said. Thorin returned, handing the weed to Gandalf. “Hold him down.” Thorin pressed on Kili’s shoulders as Gandalf wet the weed and rubbed it on Kili’s chest over his heart. “We need to return to Erebor.”

“Now? Kili is—”

“Kili will be all right, but we will soon have more people will two souls in one body and they will all be in Erebor. We must leave now!”

Thorin growled, but Kili was returned to the cart. An hour later, they were heading north.


	13. Chapter 13

“Where are you going?!” Bilbo shouted. Thorin turned to him. “The exit’s that way!”

“Someone has to stop the dragon and Thrain’s busy helping Fundin.”

“Are you mad?!” Bilbo shouted, hitting Thorin’s chest. “Are you ever going to tell me the truth or am I always going to be stuck guessing what goes on in your head! Half the time I can’t tell if you hate me or love me or if I’m just that much of a nuisance to you—”

“We don’t have time, Bilbo!”

The ground shook and Bilbo stumbled into him.

“I love you, all right?” Thorin snapped. “From the moment I saw you I knew you were my One, and I knew I could lose you on this quest and I couldn’t bear it—I can still lose you and that is why I’m so hard on you. Is that what you want to hear?”

Bilbo stared at him, fisting Thorin’s coat. He pulled himself up and kissed him. “I will never forgive you if you die. Go slay the dragon.”

He let go and raced for the exit with Bofur beside him.

Thorin touched his lips, almost wondering if they really did burn from Bilbo’s kiss or if it was all just an illusion. Another roar pulled him back to his task and he jumped up to the battlements.

The wind lance was barely on the banister. Thorin swore, kneeling to secure it as quickly as he could.

#

The walls cracked from the roaring.

Thorin covered his ears and closed his eyes, hurled against the wall as he was pushed aside. He opened his eyes and lowered his hands.

“Frerin?! Dis?! Lori!!”

There was too much chaos.

He knew he screamed. His throat burned too much to not have screamed, but amidst the panic, he could still see.

“Thorin!” Dwalin shouted, barreling into him. “Where’s my dad?”

“I can’t find Mum!” Nori added.

“You’re Mum’s with my brother and sister. Fundin’s leading the guard against the dragon.”

The stones shook and rocks tumbled. They ran. Nori screamed, his leg cut by the rubble. Dwalin picked him up, letting him ride on his back.

“C’mon!”

Thorin looked behind him. Thror was running in the opposite direction—toward the treasury. With the Arkenstone in hand. Thorin bounced on his feet.

“Go on ahead!” he shouted. “Get Nori out of here!”

“ _Thorin!!_ ”

He sprinted after Thror, managing to catch up and grab his robes.

“Grandfather! Come on! We have to get out! This— _ah!_ ”

He landed on his bum and clutched his cheek.

“Be gone from my sight,” Thror snarled. “I’ve no use for traitors.”

Thorin blinked. His eyes stung with unshed tears and he ground his teeth.

“Then go ahead,” he sneered. “I hope the dragon doesn’t choke on your bones!”

Thror stared at Thorin. “What did you say to me?”

“YOU HEARD ME!!! I HATE YOU!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!”

The Arkenstone slid from Thror’s hand and bounced on the ground.

“Adad! Thorin!”

Thrain grabbed Thorin around the waist, lifting him under one arm. They ran for the underground exit. Thorin tried to wriggle free and caught sight of someone on the battlements. His older self was aiming the wind lance.

#

The wind lance fastened, Thorin stood, stringing the arrow.

“Hey! You big sod! Over here!”

Smaug turned to him.

“That’s right! Get over here, you big, galumphing troll!”

The dragon snarled, raising on its haunches and spreading his wings. Nearly half the size of the mountain, Smaug’s gold, red, and black scales shined in the sun. His wings were each three mainsails in width and two in height. His black claws glimmered in the sun and his teeth were white. But a scale had been knocked free from Smaug’s breast.

He couldn’t let himself be intimidated by the sheer size or the memories of the strength of the beast before him. Thorin aimed the bow and fired the arrow deep into the hole, piercing the soft tissue guarded by dragon scales.

Smaug screamed, head thrown back.

Down he went, thrashing, trying to flee like the coward he was. The table whipped at the battlements, breaking the stone. Thorin cursed, racing for the stairs. He made it to the ground level and tripped, falling.

All went still.

The dragon was dead.

#

The following days in Erebor were filled with much wailing and mourning. Not everyone could get out of the Dragon’s path. The destruction was wrought.

Thror was sent to the dungeons while the treasury was emptied, gone into caring for the injured and into restoration.

Thorin and Dwalin stayed with Nori when they could.

The injury was deeper than it should have been and getting all the rubble out proved a little difficult, though most were retrieved. When he was able to again, walking would be difficult, but in time, the limp would hardly be noticeable.

When Thorin wasn’t with his friend, he was helping where he could, usually with the children.

All of them were miserable and scared. Thorin couldn’t blame them. He wished he could give into his misery just as easily as Dis could.

As it was, all he could do was hold her close and sing to her most of the time. Her and Frerin.

Adad was busy most days with Old Thorin, helping the people, overseeing the restoration of Erebor, and preparing for the coronation.

Thror was deemed unfit to rule and would be forced to abdicate the throne.

“I thought they’d go home by now,” Dwalin said. “Back to their time.”

“I know,” Thorin agreed. “Maybe they’re stuck here.”

“Wouldn’t that be a bad thing?” Dwalin asked.

“Yes,” Thorin said. “I think it’d be a very bad thing.”

Thorin walked around during his lunch, arguing that he wasn’t hungry.

He found Bilbo talking to some of the Elves. What about, he didn’t know. Nor did he care. He ran to Bilbo and hugged him, letting go of whatever restraint he had on his emotions and wept.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, my lady.” Bilbo lifted Thorin up and walked away from them, finding a bench to sit on. “It’s all right, lad.”

“Everything’s falling apart.”

“No it’s not. You still have your home, don’t you? It could have been so much worse, Thorin.” Bilbo rocked him. “You’re a brave young man and I’m sure one day you’ll be a great king.”

Thorin whimpered, hiding his face in Bilbo’s neck. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Go where? As far as I can tell, we’re still stuck here. Neither I nor my companions know how to get back to our time.”

“But you’ll figure it out and then you’ll be gone and I don’t know if I can…”

“Thorin, when you’re a hundred and seventy-eight, go to the west, there you’ll find a land of peace and prosperity. It is called the Shire. You’ll find me there. I know it hurts, lad, but you just have to wait a few more years. Can you take comfort in that you’ll find me again when your older?”

Thorin nodded, though he felt far from comforted.

#

The coronation took place outside, as the palace still needed to be restored. The rooms were ready, but the throne room was cracked and the chair destroyed.

Thrain dressed simply in black, wearing obsidian jewels and silver in his hair.

The crown of the King was placed on his head and he was given the golden scepter and held the Arkenstone in the other hand.

“Hail Thrain son of Thror son of Dain, King under the Mountain! Long live the King!”

The people raised up a chant, and when Thrain set the items down, he raised a hand to his people.

“The Arkenstone forever will be an heirloom of our people, but it will never again be displayed as the King’s right to rule,” he began, “For look at the destruction its beauty had brought on us! May it never again shine in our halls. The heart of the Mountain will return to the Mountain. Let the day the dragon came remind us that we are still mortal and that we are still strong.

“Strength is not found in the riches of the earth, but in our hearts and without our hearts, we cannot thrive. We die. Never again will the Line of Durin fall prey to the gold. From this day hence, when a king of Durin’s line shows symptoms of the madness, he is to immediately abdicate the throne to his heir or the most trusted of his advisers until the madness passes or he dies.

“Erebor will remain here and forever strong. A new era of Dwarves is in our wake.” He raised his hands. “No longer will the king live for himself. May all kings henceforth remember to temper justice with mercy, and honor with humbleness. May I never forget that I am to live for my people for without you, I am nothing.”

Thorin clapped along with the others, grinning at his father. He looked in the crowd for his older self.

They were disappearing. Bilbo found his eye and smiled.

Thorin ran to him. “I’ll find you!” he said. “I’ll always find you!”

_“I know…”_

They were gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! I was busy moving out of my apartment yesterday.

_Thorin!_

His head pounded, like a smithy’s hammer against an anvil.

_Thorin!_

Whoever was yelling ought to just go away before Thorin ran him through with his sword.

“Thorin!”

He opened his eyes, groaning. Gandalf helped him up. “By Mahal, what happened?”

“You fell off your pony,” Kili said from a cart, his voice raspy. Thorin scrambled to his feet. He bent over Kili. “Uncle?”

“Kili, is that really you?” Thorin said. Kili stared at him. His eyes were glossy and a shadow colored the skin under his eyes. His skin was pasty and a drop of sweat trickled down his brow. “Where are we? What happened to you?”

“Thorin, we must go on if everyone, including Kili and now _you_ , are to survive,” Gandalf said. Thorin turned to him.

“Tell me what is happening on the way,” Thorin demanded as he remounted his pony. Memories flashed through his head. Kili getting sick, hoping to find a cure in Orthanc and traveling with him southward until they came across Gandalf urging them to return.

Where did they come from?

“Thorin are you listening?”

“Yes…No…I don’t know. It’s like there’s two different—”

“Two different people in your head?” Gandalf asked. “You are the Thorin who lost his home when the dragon came?”

“Yes.”

Gandalf clucked his tongue. “All the more reason to get home.”

 _Two different souls in one body can only, eventually, try to negate each other,_ a voice that sounded like Thorin, but couldn’t be… _That is what’s wrong with our nephew. Eventually, we’ll be at odds ourselves. The Wizard, hopefully, will come up with a way to get us out of this mess before we start battling over this body._

_Who are you?_

_Who do you think? There’s a lot of anger in you. I wonder how you manage it._

Thorin shook his head. Two different _hims_ in one body? How could _anyone_ keep track of that?!

“Why didn’t you tell me Fili and I might’ve had a sister?” Kili groaned.

Thorin looked behind him. “What? How did—”

“She’s alive in this world,” Kili said. “Kris.”

Thorin’s throat tightened. When the babe came out stillborn, Dis couldn’t bear to hold her daughter, too grief stricken. Losing the baby so soon after Víli’s death had hindered her for quite some time. While Dis mourned the loss of both her third child and her husband, she left Thorin to care for an equally grieving Fili. Kili was too young to understand what had happened. It had been a particularly hard year for all of them…

Other memories of a little Dwarf girl came to mind, a spitting image of Dis with Víli’s nose and eyes—or, really, a female version of Kili—entered his mind. As a little girl, she’d run into his arms, laughing and blowing kisses. As she grew into a young woman, the memories featured first balls and banquets. A young girl walking between her elder brothers, much the same way Thorin and his siblings used to walk. Most featured her with Kili, who’d braid her hair and help her pick out her clothes. The ones where it was just her and Fili presented them fighting.

Thorin couldn’t believe it. A world where his niece lived to become a young woman? She had no suitors yet, for which he was grateful, but they’d be coming soon…

Such thoughts were joined with images of his nephews’ Ones. He could live with Fili marrying a daughter of Men, but an _Elf_ for a niece-in-law?!

Mahal help him.

“You were too young to understand and we didn’t see the point in telling you when you were old enough,” Thorin said. “She died. That’s all that mattered and it was easier to pretend your mother was never pregnant with her at all.”

Kili coughed. “I suppose that makes sense,” he rasped.

“When this mess is fixed, we will have a long chat about your One.”

“Not my fault,” Kili tried to snap. It came out as a groan instead.

“An _Elf_ , Kili!”

“Your other self doesn’t seem to mind.”

“My ‘other self’ had time to get used to it.”

“Can we discuss this when I’m not feeling like I’m about to die?”

Thorin clenched the reins. “Gandalf, how much longer until we get to Erebor?”

“We’ve another day to spare.”

“Good,” he said. The sooner they were home, the sooner they could separate those who have two souls in one body. Thorin only hoped it’d do what they needed it to.

Whatever that may be.

#

Dwalin and Nori met them outside.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Dwalin bellowed.

“Not now!” Thorin snapped back, lifting Kili into his arms. “Get the Company into the Throne room. _Only_ the company!”

Nori ran back inside while Dwalin cleared the way for Thorin and Kili. Nobles stood in the room, arguing amongst themselves and trying to get answers out of Thorin’s frustrated siblings.

“OUT!!!” he bellowed. The nobles turned to him, wide eyed and mouths open. “Everyone out!” They filed out, sending him tentative glances.

 _They aren’t use to that,_ his other self said.

_You’re too soft._

_I’m_ fair _. Unlike you, I never lost Erebor._

“Thorin?” Dis asked. “Kili! What’s going on?”

“Later,” he said.

“I’m not leaving!” she snapped, trying to pull Kili out of his arms. “If this concerns my son, I am _not_ leaving!”

“Then I suggest you keep your distance, my lady,” Gandalf said, drawing a circle into the stone. “And I suggest being close to an open window. You’ll need some air in a moment.”

“How long will it take?” Thorin asked.

“Not long. But it’ll be painful.”

“Painful as in…”

“To separate two souls in one body, you have to rip out the foreign soul and its own body will be reformed. It’s quick, but don’t expect to be able to move or walk…or eat anything for a few days.”

Dis sputtered, unable to form words. Frerin rubbed her back, whispering assurances to her.

Nori returned, supporting Ori between him and Dori. The others arrived behind them. Bilbo was leading Bifur, patting his hand and trying to assure him he’d be all right. Oin was out cold, carried by Gloin like a sack of potatoes. Bombur looked like he had shed a couple of pounds.

“Gandalf—”

“It’s ready! Everyone get into the circle!” Gandalf shouted. They scrambled inside. Thorin held close to his nephews. Fili shivered in his arms.

“It’ll be all right, _Punderith_ ,” he whispered. Bilbo glanced at him, biting his lip between his teeth. They’d have so much to talk about when they had their own bodies again.

“ _Breithana fae au i rhaw_ ,” Gandalf chanted, slamming his staff into the center of the circle.

Thorin was grateful to never have been flayed alive. He hoped he would never know what it felt like. But _this_ was a close equivalent, and coupled with being sawn in half. The pain blinded him and his throat burned with the scream that escaped his throat until he blacked out.

#

_…Time…_

_…Three days…_

Thorin furrowed his brow and slowly opened his eyes. _Where am I? What happened?_

“He’s waking up.”

“Hush, let him wake naturally,” Dis said. He opened his eyes to blurry lights and shadows. Slowly, he recognized colors and shapes. A pair of faces peered over him.

One was Dis, the other—

“Frerin?”

He grinned. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Brother.” Thorin slowly sat up, limbs shaking and head reeling. Dis supported him on one and Frerin on the other. “Careful! You’ve been asleep for three days. From the way everyone was screaming, we thought they’d all die or something.” Thorin looked at him again, cupping his cheek. “Thorin?”

“You’re alive?”

Frerin furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It might have to do with his own timeline,” Dis said.

“That’d make sense,” Frerin said, frowning. He smiled at him. “Bilbo—both of them—are worried about you. And our Thorin’s yet to wake too. Same as the elders, but otherwise, everyone else is fine. Fili and Kili are eating again.”

“Thank goodness.”

“And with twice the brothers than usual, Kris is climbing walls.”

Dis sighed and Thorin laughed. “I’d like to meet…Kris, if I may. Since she already met my nephews, I would like to meet the niece I…” he looked at Dis.

Dis’ smile fell. “She died in your world?”

“Stillborn,” Thorin admitted.

“Seems a lot of people died in your world,” Frerin said somberly.

Thorin scoffed. “You’ve no idea.” His other self still rested in the cot, breathing evenly. He wondered how much longer they were stuck here. Clearly, what they did didn’t affect _his own_ time line as he had hoped it would. They’d have to get to their own land. They’d have to get to their own time and he would have to send his _One_ to face a fire breathing dragon…

Thor in pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling what was supposed to be a calming breath. He felt tenser than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Punderith=cat that is young (couldn’t find lion)


	15. Chapter 15

Another week passed by the time everyone was awake and both of the Thorins called for counsel among them, to share stories, figure out what happened, and what to do now. All that was agreed on was that the company would be hidden while their other selves would go about their usual business. The only ones who knew of them outside of the Company were Dis, Frerin, Víli, Kuma, and Kris.

Thorin was certain there had to be a law against _two_ of Gandalf. Both versions of the wizard were making him irritable. Besides that, the experience was…strange. It was twice the _everything_. Twice the migraine, twice the madness, and twice the foolhardiness. Twice the heartache: watching his other self and the other Bilbo seem so affectionate in a way he could never hope to be with his own Bilbo hurt.

He had to remind himself several times that they had been married for seventeen years. That they had passed the awkwardness of courting and never had to deal with the possibility of losing each other to a dragon. They were lucky and that luck _always_ made Thorin jealous the same way he was jealous of the Shire’s inexperience with war and its peace. Jealous of the untouched so long as the untouched were old enough to be jealous of.

“There you are.” Thorin looked up to see his Bilbo. He wore new clothes—there’s no way his old ones would have survived the troll snot after all—and looked refreshed. Clean. His hair gleamed in the sunlight like spun gold. He sat across from Thorin. “Everyone’s looking for you. Lunch is ready and you were nowhere to be found.”

“I sought solitude.”

“You _always_ seek solitude,” Bilbo said. Thorin looked out the window again. “What? You’re not going to growl at me? Tell me to go away?”

“Would it work?”

“Now that I know you’re in love with me, no.” He crossed his arms over his chest to emphasize his intentions to stay. “So you might as well either come have lunch _or_ tell me how you became, well, _you_ and not _him_.”

“Do you prefer him?” Thorin asked, his heart squeezing.

Bilbo blinked. “No. He has his Bilbo and you may have yours. But only if you tell me your story. We’re in a vastly different world from ours. For instance, when I asked Bilbo about the Fell Winter, he gave me this funny look and asked what that was. His parents are alive and well back in the Shire whereas mine died nearly two decades ago. My father died first in a wolf attack. My mother passed away from fading when I was thirty-four.”

“I am sorry.”

Bilbo shrugged with the air of one who preferred to look as though they were not affected anymore despite the look in his eyes growing dim with sorrow.

“You know, it’s all right to miss them…to still mourn them.”

“I know,” Bilbo said, refusing to look at Thorin. “So! You’re story. What is it?”

Thorin sighed, wondering where to begin. The day the dragon came? It was a start. “My brother, sister, Nori, Dwalin, and I went kite flying the moment we knew it was windy enough, we went onto the South battlements which overlooked the lake…”

It was remarkably easy to tell the story to Bilbo. He told Bilbo about spending his days after aiding his father in the forge as an apprentice blacksmith. Frerin managed to apprentice with a jeweler and Dis learned to haggle at the markets very early on, never going anywhere without one of them beside her until she was old enough to take care of herself.

The early years, his grandfather was ill from the shock. Waking from the gold madness was like waking from a nightmare. Thror was easily driven to tears in those days as they grew. Thorin had learned to forgive him in time, but coming back reminded him of all the anger he had bottled down. So much anger that it was seeping out the bottle’s neck.

He managed to empty some of it when he and Nori reunited. They were staying in a village of Men at the time and the Men were doing all they could to take advantage of them if they could. They were harassing Dwarves left and right. They punished the desperate, pushed them to the limits.

Thorin grew sick of it and Nori came to him with a plan. Nori had always been a kleptomaniac and figured he might as well put his condition to use. Thorin agreed and they created the bandit known as Baraz Zundush. Baraz would steal from the oppressors to aid the oppressed. It didn’t take long for other young Dwarrow to join. Frerin for one, then Dwalin who had become a bounty hunter and decided to go after Baraz.

“Imagine his surprised when he learned that Baraz was really the two of us,” Thorin said, lips quirking up into a smile. “We met Cassa then too. She was a right bitch then and still is now. We’ll never understand how she and Nori ended up being each other’s One given how much they hated each other. It wasn’t until we were near our seventies that Nori got his longing and when he and Cassa met up again…it wasn’t pretty. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Then opportunity struck. Thror decided it might be a good idea to take back Moria and Bilbo already knew that tale. Balin left out that Frerin passed away there and that it was Víli who had dragged Thorin away from his baby brother’s corpse. So it could be burned separately from the other dwarves that passed away—same as the corpse of the last king.

After that battle, Thorin and Dis were the only ones of the line of Durin and Thorin was thrust into the role of King. He did his best, but often times, he _hated_ it. At that time, drowning in the weight of his peoples suffering often undid him and it was up to his sister to keep him afloat. And it was up to him to keep _her_ afloat before she was old enough to wed Víli—a half-Dwarf son of a Man barkeep with no house or wealth to speak of.

So Thorin named him an heir of Durin the same way a woman would be named an heir of her husband’s house. It was unconventional and traditionalists didn’t like it. But it was rare for traditionalists to like _anything_ and Thorin had a habit at the time of questioning tradition and the status quo. He was about Fili’s age then. It was a few years later that he led his people into the Blue Mountains and learned to make due in the ruins of Belegost.

The firsts few years there were horrible. They did what they could to rebuild what was left there. Disease was rampant and too many children and the elderly died. It wasn’t until the land was stable that children were born again and lived longer than a year. They made a home, but compared to Erebor, it was nothing grand. They had nothing to offer. Nothing to give. The mines were only good for mining coal. It was never going to be Erebor.

For decades they lived there in a hard earned peace and Thorin was able to live like a king again. One day, while searching for his father—the likelihood that he lived was slim, but Thorin held onto hope—he came across Gandalf who urged him to march on Erebor and take it back.

“And you’ve been there for…how long?” Bilbo asked.

“We lived in New Belegost for nearly a century.”

Bilbo bit his lip, the corners quirking up into a smile. “You know, I’ve been alive about half that time. You easily could have gone to the Shire in the last five decades…”

Thorin nodded. “I see the irony of it, Bilbo, but changes nothing.”

“No, I suppose not, but this can’t be the _only_ alternate world around. Right? Perhaps there are other worlds. Other situations and the like. Who knows? There may be a world where other versions of _us_ met before we did.”

“And worlds where we never met at all.”

“It’s possible, but you were very young when you had your…longing?”

“Yes.”

“What makes you think you wouldn’t have gone looking when you were old enough?”

“Because I didn’t,” Thorin said. “I didn’t go looking. I always kept an eye out, but I never had the time or opportunity to look.”

“I think you would have if you wanted to,” Bilbo said.

Thorin’s heart clenched again. That was true, he need only have left Ered Luin to his sister, tell her he was going to look for his One and that he’d be back given a little time…

“I know. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, Bilbo. I just…”

“I’m not mad,” he said.

“I’m sending you into a _dragon’s den_. How can you not be mad?”

“I’ll be all right,” Bilbo assured him, reaching for Thorin’s hand. “I promise everything will turn out for the best.”

“There is _nothing_ all right with this! I should have gone looking for you.”

“Thorin I didn’t _know_ about you so how could I know you’d come? I wasn’t exactly waiting for love. I had long given up on it because of my attraction for men. Love had…it wasn’t really on the table for me. I wasn’t going to disappoint my parents nor was I going to betray who I was. Nor was I exactly on the way to falling in love with you until we ended up in the past and your child self latched onto me.”

Thorin stared at their entwined hands. He squeezed Bilbo’s fingers gently. “I’ve lived nearly two hundred years without you. I was never truly alone, but I always felt it. Seeing you, knowing who you are, I did all I could to keep you from coming and _still_ you came.”

Bilbo smiled. “Well, I’m more stubborn than you think. And it’s your own damn fault for singing that song. Otherwise, I’d probably never have run out my door.”

Thorin blinked, confused. “Song?”

“The one about the misty mountains. Don’t you…”

“ _The Lay of Erebor_? _That_ ballad convinced you to…”

“Well your voice played a part,” Bilbo added, smiling. “You have a very nice voice, Thorin.”

“Just a nice voice?”

“Well, _other_ parts might be nice,” Bilbo said, his smile growing. “But I’ve no way to say whether they are or not. _Yet_. I’m hopeful.”

Thorin leaned and pressed his forehead to Bilbo’s, free hand around Bilbo’s neck. “That will be remedied when time allows, mizimel. But you are really all right with this?”

“I had time to adjust. Besides, I’d rather have you. The child-Thorin made me want to jump into a tub and scrub myself pink and thinking about certain things best left unsaid about my grandfather’s behind half the time with how amorous he could be when we were together.”

Thorin cringed. “Yeah, I guess that would be an understandable reaction.”

“I had no problem comforting him when he needed it,” Bilbo said. “He kind of reminded me of my cousins a little bit.”

“I remind you of your cousins?”

“You don’t. You’re too grumpy.”

“I’m _not_ grumpy,” Thorin protested.

Bilbo kissed his nose. “You are _always_ grumpy.” Thorin glared in hopes of hiding his amusement. He opened his mouth to deny that he was a grump again when someone knocked on the door. Fili and Kili entered, leaving a couple trays of food.

“You missed lunch, so we brought some leftovers before Bombur got it,” Fili said. “Have fun doing whatever it is you’re doing.” Kili saluted, beaming at them, and they retreated.

Bilbo’s stomach growled and he stood. “Let’s eat. Then we can talk some more if that’s what you want to do.”

“If it’s not?” Thorin asked.

“Then tell me what it is you want to do,” Bilbo said, pulling Thorin up. “Fair enough?” Thorin nodded and let Bilbo pull him to the table.

~THE END~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be more stories in the series coming! Most of what Thorin tells Bilbo in this chapter will actually be played out in the next few fics. Hope you enjoyed this one.


End file.
